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VOL.  rccxxxviii. 



VOL.  V. 








VOL.  V. 







OF     VOLUME     V. 


Military  cliaracter  of  the  Highlanders  .... 

Quarrvlii  in  tlie  Ilio'liUnil  army 

Dundee  npplies  to  James  for  Hssistance 
Tlie  war  in  tlie  Highlands  suspended    .... 
Scruples  of  the  Covenuntera  about  taking  arms  for  King  VV 
The  Camcronian  regiment  raised  .... 

Edinburgh  Castle  surrenders 

Session  of  Parliament  at  Kdinburt.'h      .... 

Ascendency  of  the  Club 

Troubles  In  Athol 

Tho  war  breaks  out  again  In  the  Highlands 

Death  of  Dundee 

Uotrcat  of  Muckay 

EtTect  of  the  battle  of  KilUecrankie  .... 
The  Scottish  Parliament  adjourmU  .... 
The  Highland  army  reinforced      ..... 

Skiimish  at  Saint  Juhnstun'a 

Disorders  in  the  Highland  army 

Mackay's  advice  disregarded  by  the  Scotch  ministers 
The  Camcronians  stationed  at  Dunkeld        .        .         . 
The  Highlanders  attack  the  Camcronians  and  are  repulse 
Dissolution  of  the  Highland  army         .... 
Intrigues  of  tho  Club;  State  of  the  Lowlands 






Disputes  in  the  English  Parliament 4.5 

Tho  attainder  of  Russell  reversed 46 

Other  attainders  reversed 4*> 

Case  of  Samuel  Jolmson ,         .         .        .  ib. 

Case  of  Devonshire 60 

Case  of  Dates ib. 

Bill  of  Rights &9 

Disputes  about  a  liill  of  Indemnity *".2 

Last  days  of  Jeffreys 64 

The  Whigs  dissatisUed  with  the  King   . <0 

YI  CONTEmS   or  VOLUiUii,    V. 


Intemperance  of  Howe 71 

Attack  on  Caermarthen 72 

Attack  on  Halifax 73 

Preparations  for  a  campaign  in  Ireland 76 

Scliomberg 78 

Recess  of  the  Parliament 80 

State  of  Ireland.    Advitje  of  Avaux ib' 

Dismission  of  Melfort 86 

Scliomberg  lands  in  Ulster     .        .        - tft. 

Carrickfergus  taken 87 

Schomberg  advances  into  Leinster 88 

The  English  and  Irish  armies  encamp  near  each  other        .        .        .  ib. 

Schomberg  declines  a  battle 89 

Frauds  of  the  English  Commissariat ib' 

Conspiracy  among  the  French  troops  in  the  English  service      •        .  91 

Pestilence  in  the  English  army 93 

The  English  and  Irish  armies  go  into  winter  quarters          ...  96 

Various  opinions  about  Schomberg's  conduct 97 

Maritime  affairs 98 

Maladministration  of  Torrington 99 

Continental  affairs 101 

Skirmish  at  Walcourt 103 

Imputations  thrown  on  Marlborough 104 

Pope  Innocent  XI.  succeeded  by  Alexander  VIII 105 

The  High  Church  clergy  divided  on  the  subject  of  the  oaths      .        .  106 

Arguments  for  taking  the  oaths 107 

Arguments  against  taking  the  oatlis 110 

A  great  majority  of  the  clergy  take  the  oaths 116 

The  nonjurors 118 

Ken 119 

Leslie 121 

Sherlock 122 

Hickes 124 

Collier 125 

Dodwell 126 

Kettlewell.     Fitzwilliam 129 

General  character  of  the  noiijuring  clergy 130 

The  plan  of  Comprehension 133 

Tillotson 134 

An  Ecclesiastical  Commission  issued 135 

Proceedings  of  the  Commission 136 

The  Convocation  of  the  province  of  Canterbury  summoned.  Temper 

of  the  Clergy 142 

The  clergy  ill  affected  towards  the  King 143 

The  clergy  exasperated  against  the  Dissenters  by  the  proceedings  of 

the  Scotch  Presbyterians 146 



Constitution  of  the  Convocation ^^8 

Election  of  members  of  Convocation 160 

Kcclcsinstical  prcfcrmenta  bestowed ^^^ 

Conipton  discontented ^6* 

Tlie  Convocation  meets 164 

The  Uigh-Ctiurcliraen  a  majority  of  tlie  Lower  lloiiae  of  Convocation  I'B 

Difforcnco  between  tlic  two  Ilonses  of  Convocation     ....  167 

Tlie  Lower  House  of  Convocation  proves  unmanayealjle     .        .        •  io. 

Tlie  Convocation  prorogued l'*"* 


Tiie  Parliament  meets l"! 

Uetiremeiit  of  Halifax '''• 

Supplies  voted l^'^ 

The  Bill  of  Rights  passed 1^3 

Inquiry  into  nuval  abuses l^^ 

Inquiry  into  the  conduct  of  the  Irish  war 1G6 

Reception  of  Walker  in  England 168 

Edmund  Ludlow •  170 

Violence  of  the  Whigs 174 

Impeachments 176 

Committee  of  Murder 178 

Malevolence  of  Jolin  Hampden 177 

The  Corporation  Bill 181 

Debates  on  the  Indemnity  Bill 187 

Case  of  Sir  Robert  Sawyer 188 

The  King  purposes  to  retire  to  Holland 193 

He  is  induced  to  change  his  intention 19'1 

The  Whigs  oppose  his  going  to  Ireland "  IS-J 

He  prorogues  the  Parliament 196 

Joy  of  the  Tories 197 

Dissolution  and  general  election 199 

Changes  in  the  executive  departuK  nts 201 

Caermarthcn  chief  minister  .",....••.  202 

Sir  John  Lowther 204 

Rise  and  progress  of  parliamentary  corruption  in  England         .        .  206 

Sir  John  Trevor 212 

Qodolphin  retires ^ 213 

Changes  at  the  Admiralty 214 

Changes  in  the  Commissions  of  Lieutenancy 215 

Temper  of  the  Whigs     •        .        .        .        ' 217 

Dealings  of  some  Whigs  with  Saint  Germains:  Shrewsbury;  Ferguson  218 

Hopes  of  the  Jacobites 219 

Meeting  of  the  new  Parliament 220 

Settlement  of  the  revenue 221 

Provision  for  the  Princess  of  Denroark 224 



Bill  declaring  tho  Acts  of  the  preceding  Parliament  valid  .        .        .  232 

Debate  on  the  changes  in  the  Lieutenancy 233 

Abjuration  Bill 234 

Act  of  Grace 240 

The  Parliament  prorogued 243 

Preparations  for  the  first  war 244 

Administration  of  James  at  I/ablin       .......  245 

An  auxiliary  force  sent  from  France  to  Ireland 247 

Plan  of  the  English  Jacobites;  Clarendon,  Aylesbury,  Dartmouth     .  250 

Penn 251 

Preston 252 

The  Jacobites  betrayed  by  Fuller 254 

Crone  arrested 256 

Difficulties  of  William 258 

Conduct  of  Shrewsbury          . ib. 

The  Council  of  Nine «...  2r.2 

Conduct  of  Clarendon 263 

Penn  helf'     bail .  264 

Interview "b' .  v-ecn  William  and  Burnet i6. 

William  sets  out  for  Ireland 265 

Trial  of  Crone '266 

Danger  of  invasion  and  insurrection.  Tourville's  fleet  in  the  Channel  268 

Arrests  of  suspected  persons 269 

Torrington  ordered  to  give  battle  to  Tourville 270 

Battle  of  Beachy  Head 272 

Alarm  in  London 273 

Battle  of  Fleurus 274 

Spirit  of  the  nation 276 

Conduct  of  Shrewsbury 277 


VOL.    V. 



1  he  Highlanders,  while  they  continued  to  be  a  natio"  living    chap. 
under  a  peculiar  polity,  were  in  one  sense  better  and  '    another     ,g^,j"  ~ 
sense  worse  fitted  for  military  purposes  than  any  other  nation  in  Military 
Europe.     The  individual  Celt  was  morally  and  physically  well  of  the 
qualified  for  war,  and  especially  for  war  in  so  wild  and  rugged  landi'rs. 
a  countrj' as  his  own.     He  was  intrepid,  strong,  fleet,  patient 
of  cold,  of  hunger,  and  of  fatigue.     Up  steep  crags,  and  over 
treacherous  morasses,  he  moved  as  easily  as  the  French  house- 
hold troops  paced  along  the  gi-eat  road  from  Versailles  to  Marly. 
He  was  accustomed  to  the  use  of  weapons  and  to  the  sight  of 
blood:  he  was  a  fencer;  he  was  a  marksman;  and,  before  he 
had  ever  stood  in  the  ranks,  he  was  already  more  than  half  a 

As  the  individual  Celt  was  easily  turned  into  a  soldier,  so  a 
tribe  of  Celts  was  easily  turned  into  a  battalion  of  soldiers.  All 
that  was  necessary  was  that  the  military  organization  should  be 
conformed  to  the  patriarchal  organization.  The  Chief  must  be 
Colonel:  his  uncle  or  his  brother  must  be  Major:  the  tacksmen, 
who  formed  what  may  be  called  the  peerage  of  the  little  com- 
munity, must  be  the  Captains:  the  company  of  each  Captain 
must  consist  of  those  peasants  who  lived  on  his  land,  and  whose 
Macaulny.  History.    V.  1 


names,  faces,  connections,  and  characters,  were  perfectly 
known  to  him:  the  subaltern  officers  must  be  selected  among 
the  DuinheWassels,  proud  of  the  eagle's  feather:  the  henchman 
was  an  excellent  orderly:  the  hereditary  piper  and  his  sons 
formed  the  band:  and  the  clan  became  at  once  a  regiment.  In 
such  a  regiment  was  found  from  the  first  moment  that  exact 
order  and  prompt  obedience  in  which  the  strength  of  regular 
armies  consists.  Every  man,  from  highest  to  lowest,  was  in 
his  proper  place,  and  knew  that  place  perfectly.  It  was  not 
necessary  to  impress  by  threats  or  by  punishment  on  the  newly 
enlisted  troops  the  duty  of  regarding  as  their  head  him  whom 
they  had  regarded  as  tlieir  head  ever  since  they  could  remember 
any  thing.  Every  private  had,  from  infancy,  respected  his 
corporal  much  and  his  Captain  more ,  and  had  almost  adoi'ed 
his  Colonel.  There  was  therefore  no  danger  of  mutiny.  There 
was  as  little  danger  of  desertion.  Indeed  the  veiy  feelings  which 
most  powerfully  impel  other  soldiers  to  desert  kept  the  High- 
lander to  his  standard.  If  he  left  it,  whither  was  he  to  go?  All 
his  kinsmen,  all  his  friends,  were  arrayed  round  it.  To  separate 
himself  from  it  was  to  separate  himself  for  ever  from  his  family, 
and  to  incur  all  the  misery  of  that  very  homesickness  which,  in 
regular  armies,  drives  so  many  recruits  to  abscond  at  the  risk  of 
stripes  and  of  death.  When  these  things  are  fairly  considered, 
it  will  not  be  thought  strange  that  the  Highland  clans  should 
have  occasionally  achieved  great  martial  exploits. 

But  those  very  institutions  which  made  a  tribe  of  High- 
landers, all  bearing  the  same  name,  and  all  subject  to  the  same 
ruler,  so  formidable  in  battle,  disqualified  the  nation  for  war 
on  a  large  scale.  Nothing  was  easier  than  to  turn  clans  into 
efficient  regiments;  but  nothing  was  more  difficult  than  to 
combine  these  regiments  in  such  a  manner  as  to  form  an  efficient 
army.  From  the  shepherds  and  herdsmen  who  fought  in  the 
ranks  up  to  the  chiefs,  all  was  harmony  and  order.    Every  man 



WXLUAM   AM)   MAilY. 

looked  up  to  his  immediate  superior,  and  all  looked  up  to  the  chap 
common  head.  But  with  the  chief  this  chain  of  subordination  - 
ended.  lie  knew  only  how  to  govern,  and  had  never  learned 
to  obey.  Even  to  royal  proclamations,  even  to  Acts  of  Parlia- 
ment, he  was  accustomed  to  yield  obedience  only  when  they 
were  in  perfect  accordance  with  his  own  incUnations.  It  was 
not  to  be  expected  that  he  would  pay  to  any  delegated  authority 
a  respect  which  he  was  in  the  habit  of  refusing  to  the  supreme 
authority.  He  thought  himself  entitled  to  judge  of  the  propriety 
of  every  order  which  he  received.  Of  his  brother  chiefs,  some 
were  his  enemies  ai^d  some  his  rivals.  It  was  hardly  possible  to 
keep  him  from  affronting  them,  or  to  convince  him  that  they 
were  not  affronting  him.  All  his  followers  sympathized  with  all 
his  animosities,  considered  his  honour  as  their  own,  and  were 
ready  at  his  whistle  to  array  themselves  round  him  in  arms 
against  the  commander  in  chief.  There  was  therefore  very  little 
chance  that  by  any  contrivance  any  five  clans  could  be  induced 
to  cooperate  heartily  with  one  another  during  a  long  campaign. 
The  best  chance,  however,  was  when  they  were  led  by  a  Saxon. 
It  is  remarkable  that  none  of  the  great  actions  performed  by  the 
Highlanders  during  our  civil  wars  was  performed  under  the 
command  of  a  Highlander.  Some  writers  have  mentioned  it  as 
a  proof  of  the  extraordinary  genius  of  Montrose  and  Dundee 
that  those  captains,  though  not  themselves  of  Gaelic  race  or 
speech,  should  have  been  able  to  form  and  direct  confederacies 
of  Gaelic  tribes.  But  in  truth  it  was  precisely  because  Montrose 
and  Dundee  were  not  Highlanders,  that  they  were  able  to  lead 
armies  composed  of  Highland  clans.  Had  Montrose  been  chief 
of  the  Camerons,  the  Macdonalds  would  never  have  submitted 
to  his  authority.  Had  Dundee  been  chief  of  Clanronald,  he 
would  never  have  been  obeyed  by  Glengarry.  Haughty  and 
punctilious  men,  who  scarcely  acknowledged  the  King  to  be 
their  superior,  would  not  have  endured  the  superiority  of  a 




CHAP,  neighbour,  an  equal,  a  competitor.  They  could  far  more  easily 
•  bear  the  preeminence  of  a  distinguished  stranger.  Yet  even  to 
Buch  a  stranger  they  would  allow  only  a  very  limited  and  a  very, 
precarious  authority.  To  bring  a  chief  before  a  court  martial, 
to  shoot  him,  to  cashier  him,  to  degrade  him,  to  reprimand 
him  publicly,  was  impossible.  Macdonald  of  Keppoch  or  Mac- 
lean of  Duart  would  have  struck  dead  any  officer  who  had 
demanded  his  sword,  and  told  him  to  consider  himself  as  under 
arrest;  and  hundreds  of  claymores  would  instantly  have  been 
drawn  to  protect  the  murderer.  All  that  was  left  to  the  com- 
mander under  whom  these  potentates  condescended  to  sei-ve 
was  to  argue  with  them,  to  supplicate  them,  to  flatter  them,-  to 
bribe  them ;  and  it  was  only  during  a  short  time  that  any  human 
skill  could  preserve  harmony  by  these  means.  For  every  chief 
thought  himself  entitled  to  peculiar  observance;  and  it  was 
therefore  impossible  to  pay  marked  court  to  any  one  without 
disobliging  the  rest.  The  general  found  himself  merely  the 
president  of  a  congress  of  petty  kings.  He  was  perpetually 
called  upon  to  hear  and  to  compose  disputes  about  pedigrees, 
about  precedence,  about  the  division  of  spoil.  His  decision, 
be  it  what  it  might,  must  offend  somebody.  At  any  moment  he 
might  hear  that  his  right  wing  had  fired  on  his  centre  in  pur- 
suance of  some  quarrel  two  hundred  years  old,  or  that  a  whole 
battalion  had  marched  back  to  its  native  glen ,  because  another 
battalion  had  been  put  in  the  post  of  honour.  A  Highland  bard 
might  easily  have  found  in  the  history  of  the  year  1689  subjects 
very  similar  to  those  with  which  the  war  of  Troy  furnished  the 
great  poets  of  antiquity.  One  day  Achilles  is  sullen,  keeps 
his  tent,  and  announces  his  intention  to  depart  with  all  his  men. 
The  next  day  Ajax  is  storming  about  the  camp ,  and  threatening 
to  cut  the  throat  of  Ulysses. 

Hence  it  was  that,  though  the  Highlanders  achieved  some 
great  exploits  in  the  civil  wars  of  the  seventeenth  century,  those 


exploits  left  no  trace  which  could  be  discerned  after  the  lapse  of  chap. 
a  few  weeks.  Victories  of  strange  and  almost  portentous  ■  "  ■ 
spieudour  produced  all  the  consequences  of  defeat.  Veteran 
soldiers  and  statesmen  were  bewildered  by  those  sudden  turns 
of  fortune.  It  was  incredible  that  undisciplined  men  should 
have  performed  such  feats  of  arms.  It  was  incredible  that  such 
feats  of  arms,  having  been  performed,  should  be  immediately 
followed  by  the  triumph  of  the  conquered  and  the  submission  of 
the  conquerors.  Montrose,  having  passed  rapidly  from  victory 
to  victory,  was,  in  the  full  career  of  success,  suddenly  abandoned 
by  his  followers.  Local  jealousies  and  local  interests  had 
brought  his  army  together.  Local  jealousies  and  local  interests 
dissolved  it.  The  Gordons  left  him  because  they  fancied  that 
he  neglected  them  for  the  Macdonalds.  The  Macdonalds  left 
him  because  they  wanted  to  plunder  the  Campbells.  The  force 
which  had  once  seemed  sufficient  to  decide  the  fate  of  a  king- 
dom melted  away  in  a  few  days ;  and  the  victories  of  Tippermuir 
and  Kilsyth  were  followed  by  the  disaster  of  Philiphaugh. 
Dundee  did  not  live  long  enough  to  experience  a  similar  reverse 
of  fortune;  but  there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that,  had  his 
life  been  prolonged  one  fortnight,  his  histor}' would  have  been 
the  history  of  Montrose  retold. 

Dundee  made  one  attempt,  soon  after  the  gathering  of  the 
clans  in  Lochaber,  to  induce  them  to  submit  to  the  discipline  of 
a  regular  army.  He  called  a  council  of  war  to  consider  this 
question.  His  opinion  was  supported  by  all  the  officers  who  had 
joined  him  from  the  low  country.  Distinguished  among  them 
were  James  Seton,  Earl  of  Dunfennline ,  and  James  Galloway, 
Lord  Dunkeld.  The  Celtic  chiefs  took  the  other  side.  Lochiel, 
the  ablest  among  them,  was  their  spokesman,  and  argued  the 
point  with  much  ingenuity  and  natural  eloquence.  "Our 
system,"  —  such  was  the  substance  of  his  reasoning, —  "may 
not  be  the  best:  but  we  were  bred  to  it  from  childhood:  we 


CHAP,  understand  it  perfectly:  it  is  suited  to  our  peculiar  institutions, 
jgggi    feelings,  and  manners.    Making  war  after  our  own  fashion,  we 
have  the  expertness  and  coolness  of  veterans.    Making  war  in 
any  other  way,  we  shall  be  raw  and  awkward  recruits.    To  turn 
us  into  soldiers  like  those  of  Cromwell  and  Tm-enne  would  be 
the  business  of  years:  and  we  have  not  even  weeks  to  spare. 
We  have  time  enough  to  unlearn  our  own  discipline,  but  not 
time  enough  to  learn  yours."    Dundee ,  with  high  compliments 
toLochiel,  declared  himself  convinced,  and  perhaps  was  con- 
vinced:  for  the  reasonings  of  the  wise  old  chief  were  by  no 
means  without  weight.  * 
Q«»^rei9        Yet  some  Celtic  usages  of  war  were  such  as  Dundee  could 
Highland  not  tolerate.     Cruel  as  he  was,  his  cruelty  always  had  a  method 

army*  -  '  •'  •/ 

and  a  purpose.  He  still  hoped  that  he  might  be  able  to  win 
some  chiefs  who  remained  neutral;  and  he  carefully  avoided 
every  act  which  could  goad  them  into  open  hostility.  This  was 
undoubtedly  a  policy  likely  to  promote  the  interest  of  James ; 
but  the  interest  of  James  was  nothing  to  the  wild  marauders 
who  used  his  name  and  rallied  round  his  banner  merely  for  the 
purpose  of  making  profitable  forays  and  wreaking  old  grudges. 
Keppoch  especia.lly,  who  hated  the  Mackintoshes  much  more 
than  he  loved  the  Stuarts,  not  only  plundered  the  territory  of 
his  enemies,  but  burned  whatever  he  could  not  caiTy  away. 
Dundee  was  moved  to  great  wrath  by  the  sight  of  the  blazing 
dwellings.  "I  would  rather,"  he  said,  "carry  a  musket  in  a  re- 
spectable regiment  than  be  captain  of  such  a  gang  of  thieves." 
Funlshment  was  of  course  out  of  the  question.  Indeed  it  may 
be  considered  as  a  remarkable  proof  of  the  general's  influence 
that  CoU  of  the  Cows  deigned  to  apologize  for  conduct  for  which 
in  a  well  governed  army  he  would  have  been  shot.  ** 

As  the  Grants  were  in  arms  for  King  William,  their  property 

•  Memoirs  of  Sir  Ewan  Cameron. 
•*  Ibid. 



was  cousidered  as  fair  prize.  Tlieu*  ten-itory  was  invaded  by  a  chap 
party  of  Camerons:  a  skirmish  took  place:  some  blood  was - 
shed;  and  many  cattle  were  carried  off  to  Dundee's  camp, 
where  provisions  w^re  grieatly  needed.  This  raid  produced  a 
quan-el,  the  history  of  which  illustrates  in  the  most  striking 
manner  the  character  of  a  Highland  amiy.  Among  those  who 
were  slain  in  resisting  the  Camerons  was  a  Macdonald  of  the 
Glengarry  branch,  who  had  long  resided  among  the  Grants,  had 
become  in  feelings  and  opinions  a  Grant,  and  had  absented 
himself  from  the  muster  of  his  tribe.  Though  he  had  been 
guilty  of  a  high  offence  against  the  Gaelic  code  of  honour  and 
morality,  his  kinsmen  remembered  the  sacred  tie  which  he  had 
forgotten.  Good  or  bad,  he  was  bone  of  their  bone:  he  was 
flesh  of  their  flesh ;  and  he  should  have  been  reserved  for  their 
justice.  The  name  which  he  bore,  the  blood  of  the  Lords  of  the 
Isles,  should  have  been  his  protection.  Glengarry  in  a  rage 
went  to  Dundee  and  demanded  vengeance  on  Lochiel  and  the 
whole  race  of  Cameron.  Dundee  replied  that  the  unfortunate 
gentleman  who  had  fallen  was  a  traitor  to  the  clan  as  well  as  to 
the  King.  Was  it  ever  heard  of  in  war  that  the  person  of  an 
enemy,  a  combatant  in  arras,  was  to  he  held  inviolable  on  ac- 
count of  his  name  and  descent?  And,  even  if  A\Tong  had  been 
done,  how  was  it  to  be  redressed?  Half  the  army  must  slaughter 
the  other  half  before  a  finger  could  be  laid  on  Lochiel.  Glen- 
garry went  away  raging  like  a  madman.  Since  his  complaints 
were  disregarded  by  those  who  ought  to  right  him,  he  would 
right  himself:  he  would  draw  out  his  men,  and  fall  sword  in 
hand  on  the  mui'derers  of  his  cousin.  During  some  time  he 
would  listen  to  no  expostulation.  When  he  was  reminded  that 
Lochiel's  followers  were  in  number  nearly  double  of  the  Glen- 
garry men,  "No  matter,"  he  cried,  "one  Macdonald  is  worth 
two  Camerons."  Had  Lochiel  been  equally  irritable  and  boast- 
ful, it  is  probable  that  the  Highland  insurrection  would  have 

8  BlSlOjaX  OS  ENQLAHH. 

CHAP,  given  little  more  trouble  to  the  government,  and  that  tte  rebels 
—j^^^  would  have  perished  obscurely  in  the  -wilderness  by  one  an- 
other's claymores.  But  nature  had  bestowed  on  him  in  large 
measure  the  qualities  of  a  statesman,  though  fortune  had  hidden 
those  qualities  in  an  obscure  corner  of  the  world.  He  saw  that 
this  was  not  a  time  for  brawling:  his  own  character  for  courage 
had  long  been  established;  and  his  temper  was  under  strict 
government.  The  fury  of  Glengarry,  not  being  inflamed  by  any 
fresh  provocation,  rapidly  abated.  Indeed  there  were  some 
who  suspected  that  he  had  never  been  quite  so  pugnacious  as 
he  had  affected  to  be,  and  that  his  bluster  was  meant  only  to 
keep  up  his  own  dignity  in  the  eyes  of  his  retainers.  However 
this  might  be,  the  quarrel  was  composed;  and  the  two 
chiefs  met,  with  the  outward  show  of  civility,  at  the  general's 
Dundee  What  Dundee  saw  of  his  Celtic  allies  must  have  made  him 

applies  to 

James  for  dcsirous  to  havo  in  his  army  some  troops  on  whose  obedience 


ance.  he  could  depend,  and  who  would  not,  at  a  signal  from  their 
colonel,  turn  their  arms  against  their  general  and  their  king. 
He  accordingly,  during  the  months  of  May  and  June,  sent  to 
Dublin  a  succession  of  letters  earnestly  imploring  assistance. 
If  six  thousand,  four  thousand,  three  thousand,  regular  soldiers 
were  now  sent  to  Lochaber,  he  trusted  that  his  Majesty  would 
soon  hold  a  court  in  HoljTOod.  That  such  a  force  might  be 
spared  hardly  admitted  of  a  doubt.  The  authority  of  James  was 
at  that  time  acknowledged  in  every  part  of  Ireland ,  except  on 
the  shores  of  Lough  Erne  and  behind  the  ramparts  of  London- 
derry. He  had  in  that  kingdom  an  anny  of  forty  thousand  men. 
An  eighth  part  of  such  an  army  would  scarcely  be  missed  there, 
and  might,  united  with  the  clans  which  were  in  insurrection, 
effect  great  things  in  Scotland. 

Dundee  received  such  answers  to  his  applications  as  encou- 
*  Memoirs  of  Sir  Ewan  Camerou. 

raged  him  to  hope  that  a  large  and  well  appointed  force  would  chap. 
soon  be  Bent  from  Ulster  to  join  him.  He  did  not  wish  to  try  ^g^^"  ■ 
the  chance  of  battle  before  these  succours  arrived.*  Mackay, 
on  the  other  hand,  was  weary  of  marching  to  and  fro  in  a  desert. 
His  men  were  exhausted  and  out  of  heart.  He  thought  it  de- 
sirable that  they  should  withdraw  from  the  hill  country;  and 
William  was  of  the  same  opinion. 

In  June  therefore  the  civil  war  was,  as  if  by  concert  between  itie  war 
the  generals,    completely  suspended.     Dundee  remained  in  ujgh-" 
Lochaber,  impatiently  awaiting  the  arrival  of  troops  and  sup-  p'J'nded'.*" 
plies  from  Ireland.    It  was  impossible  for  him  to  keep  his  High- 
landers together  in  a  state  of  inactivity.     A  vast  extent  of  moor 
and  mountain  was  requiied  to  furnish  food  for  so  many  mouths. 
The  clans  therefore  went  back  to  their  own  glens,  having  pro- 
mised to  reassemble  on  the  first  summons. 

Meanwhile  Mackay's  soldiers,  exhausted  by  severe  exertions 
and  privations ,  were  taking  their  ease  in  quarters  scattered  over 
the  low  country  from  Aberdeen  to  Stirling.  Mackay  himself  was 
at  Edinburgh,  and  was  urging  the  ministers  there  to  furnish 
him  with  the  means  of  constructing  a  chain  of  fortifications 
among  the  Grampians.  The  ministers  had,  it  should  seem, 
miscalculated  their  military  resources.  It  had  been  expected 
that  the  Campbells  would  take  the  field  in  such  force  as  would 
balance  the  whole  strength  of  the  clans  which  marched  under 
Dundee.  It  had  also  been  expected  that  the  Covenanters  of  the 
West  would  hasten  to  swell  the  ranks  of  the  army  of  King 
William.  Both  expectations  were  disappointed.  Argyle  had 
found  his  principality  devastated,  and  his  tribe  disarmed  and 
disorganized.  A  considerable  time  must  elapse  before  his 
standard  would  be  surrounded  by  an  array  such  as  his  fore- 
fathers had  led  to  battle.    The  Covenanters  of  the  West  were  in  Scruples 

,  .  1.  rr.,  -1.  •  OflheCO- 

general  umvilhng  to  enhst.    They  were  assuredly  not  wantmg^tnamcn 

•  Dundee  to  Melfort,  June  27.  ICtrtf. 


CHAP,    in  courage;  and  they  hated  Dundee  with  deadly  liatred.    In 



their  part  of  the  country  the  memory  of  his  cruelty  was  still 
about  fresh.  Every  village  had  its  own  tale  of  blood.  The  grey- 
arm's^for  headed  father  was  missed  in  one  dwelling,  the  hopeful  stripling 
hara.^"  ^"  another.  It  was  remembered  but  too  well  how  the  dragoons 
had  stalked  into  the  peasant's  cottage,  cursing  and  damning 
him,  themselves,  and  each  other  at  every  second  word,  push- 
ing from  the  ingle  nook  his  grandmother  of  eighty,  and  thrust- 
ing their  hands  into  the  bosom  of  his  daughter  of  sixteen;  how 
the  abjuration  had  been  tendered  to  him;  how  he  had  folded 
his  arms  and  said  "God's  will  be  done;"  how  the  Colonel  had 
called  for  a  file  with  loaded  muskets;  and  how  in  three  minutes 
the  goodman  of  the  house  had  been  wallowing  in  a  pool  of 
blood  at  his  own  door.  The  seat  of  the  martyr  was  still  vacant 
at  the  fireside;  and  every  child  could  point  out  his  grave  still 
green  amidst  the  heath.  When  the  people  of  this  region  called 
their  oppressor  a  servant  of  the  devil,  they  were  not  speaking 
figuratively.  They  believed  that  between  the  bad  man  and  the 
bad  angel  there  was  a  close  alliance  on  definite  terms;  that 
Dundee  had  bound  himself  to  do  the  work  of  hell  on  earth,  and 
that,  for  high  purposes,  hell  was  permitted  to  protect  its  slave 
till  the  measure  of  his  guilt  should  be  full.  But,  intensely  as 
these  men  abhorred  Dundee,  most  of  them  had  a  scruple  about 
drawing  the  sword  for  William.  A  great  meeting  was  held  in 
the  parish  church  of  Douglas;  and  the  question  was  pro- 
pounded, whether,  at  a  time  when  war  was  in  the  land,  and 
when  an  Irish  invasion  was  expected,  it  were  not  a  duty  to  talte 
arms.  The  debate  was  sharp  and  tumultuous.  The  orators  on 
one  side  adjured  their  brethren  not  to  incur  the  curse  de- 
nounced against  the  inhabitants  of  Mcroz,  who  came  not  to  the 
help  of  the  Lord  against  the  mighty.  The  orators  on  the  other 
side  thundered  against  sinful  associations.  There  were  ma- 
lignants  in  William's  army:  Mackay's  own  orthodoxy  was  pro- 


blematical:  to  take  military  senice  with  such  conuades,  and  chap. 
under  such  a  general ,  would  be  a  sinful  association.  At  length,  -  )ggg~ 
after  much  wrangling,  and  amidst  great  confusion,  a  vote  was 
taken;  and  the  majority  pronounced  that  to  take  militarj'  ser- 
vice would  be  a  sinful  association.  ITiere  was  however  a  large  The 
minority;  and,  from  among  the  members  of  this  minority,  the  n,'',"7er 
Earl  of  Angus  was  able  to  raise  a  body  of  infantry,  which  is  still,  Ji°^'^j' 
after  the  lapse  of  more  than  a  hundred  and  sixty  years ,  known 
by  the  name  of  the  Cameronian  Regiment.  The  first  Lieutenant 
Colonel  was  Cleland,  that  implacable  avenger  of  blood  who 
had  driven  Dundee  from  the  Convention.  There  was  no  small 
difficulty  in  filling  the  ranks;  for  many  West  country  Whigs, 
who  did  not  think  it  absolutely  sinful  to  enlist,  stood  out  for 
terms  subversive  of  all  military  discipline.  Some  would  not 
serve  under  any  colonel,  major,  captain,  seijeant,  or  corporal, 
who  was  not  ready  to  sign  the  Covenant.  Others  insisted  that, 
if  it  should  be  found  absolutely  necessarj*  to  appoint  any  officer 
who  had  taken  the  tests  imposed  in  the  late  reign ,  he  should  at 
least  qualify  himself  for  command  by  publicly  confessing  his  sin 
at  the  head  of  the  regiment.  Most  of  the  enthusiasts  who  had 
proposed  these  conditions  were  induced  by  dexterous  manage- 
ment to  abate  much  of  their  demands.  Yet  the  new  regiment 
had  a  verj'  peculiar  character.  The  soldiers  were  all  rigid 
Puritans.  One  of  their  first  acts  was  to  petition  the  Parliament 
that  all  drunkenness,  licentiousness,  and  profaneness  might 
be  severely  punished.  Their  own  conduct  must  have  been 
exemplary:  for  the  worst  crime  which  the  most  extravagant 
bigotry  could  impute  to  them  was  that  of  huzzaing  on  the  King's 
birthday.  It  was  originally  intended  that  with  the  military  orga- 
nization of  the  corps  should  be  interwoven  the  organization  of  a 
Presbyterian  congregation.  Each  company  was  to  furnish 
an  elder;  and  the  elders  were,  with  the  chaplain,  to  form  an 
ecclesiastical    court    for   the  suppression  of  immorality  and 


CHAP,  heresy.    Elders,  however,  were  not  appointed:  but  a  noted 


hill  preacher,  Alexander  Shields,  was  called  to  the  office  of 
chaplain.  It  is  not  easy  to  conceive  that  fanaticism  can  be 
heated  to  a  higher  temperature  than  that  which  is  indicated  by 
the  writings  of  Shields.  According  to  him,  it  should  seem  to 
be  the  first  duty  of  a  Christian  ruler  to  persecute  to  the  death 
every  heterodox  subject,  and  the  first  duty  of  every  Christian 
subject  to  poniard  a  heterodox  ruler.  Yet  there  was  then  in 
Scotland  an  enthusiasm  compared  with  which  the  enthusiasm 
even  of  this  man  was  lukewarm.  The  extreme  Covenanters  pro- 
tested against  his  defection  as  vehemently  as  he  had  protested 
against  the  Black  Indulgence  and  the  oath  of  supremacy,  and 
pronounced  every  man  who  entered  Angus's  regiment  guilty 
of  a  wicked  confederacy  with  malignants.* 
Edin-  Meanwhile  Edinburgh   Castle    had  fallen,    after  holding 

Casue  out  more  than  two  months.  Both  the  defence  and  the  at- 
ders!"'  ^^^^  ^^^  been  languidly  conducted.  The  Duke  of  Gordon, 
unwilling  to  incur  the  mortal  hatred  of  those  at  whose 
mercy  his  lands  and  life  might  soon  be,  did  not  choose  to 
batter  the  city.  The  assailants,  on  the  other  hand,  carried 
on  their  operations  with  so  little  energy  and  so  little 
vigilance  that  a  constant  communication  was  kept  up  be- 
tween the  Jacobites  within  the  citadel  and  the  Jacobites 
without.  Strange  stories  were  told  of  the  polite  and  facetious 
messages  which  passed  between  the  besieged  and  the  besiegers. 

•  See  Faithful  Contendings  Displayed,  particularly  the  proceedings  of 
April  29.  and  30.  and  of  May  13.  and  14.  1689;  the  petition  to  Parliament 
drawn  up  by  the  regiment,  on  July  18.  1689;  the  protestation  of  Sir  Kobert 
Hamilton  of  November  6.  1689;  and  the  admonitory  Epistle  to  the  Regi- 
ment, dated  Marcli  27.  1690.  The  Society  people,  as  they  called  them- 
selves, seem  to  have  been  especially  shocked  by  the  way  in  which  tlio 
King's  birthday  had  been  kept.  "We  hope,"  they  wrote,  "yo  are  against 
observing  anniversary  days  as  well  as  we ,  and  that  ye  will  mourn  for  what 
yo  have  done."  As  to  the  opinions  and  temper  of  Alexander  Shield*,  see 
bis  Hind  Let  Loose. 




On  one  occasion  Gordon  sent  to  inform  the  magistrates  that  he  rnAP. 
was  going  to  tire  a  sakite  on  account  of  some  news  which  he  had 
received  from  Ireland,  but  that  the  good  town  need  not  be 
alarmed,  for  that  his  guns  would  not  be  loaded  with  ball.  On 
another  occasion,  his  drums  beat  a  parley:  the  white  flag  was 
hung  out:  a  conference  took  place;  and  he  gravely  informed 
the  enemy  that  all  his  cards  had  been  thumbed  to  pieces,  and 
begged  them  to  let  him  have  a  few  more  packs.  His  friends 
established  a  telegraph  by  means  of  which  they  conversed  with 
him  across  the  lines  of  sentinels.  From  a  window  in  the  top 
stor}'  of  one  of  the  loftiest  of  those  gigantic  houses,  a  few  of 
which  still  darken  the  High  Street,  a  white  cloth  was  hung  out 
when  all  was  well,  and  a  Ijlack  cloth  when  things  went  ill.  If  it 
was  necessary  to  give  more  detailed  infonnation,  a  board  was 
held  up  inscribed  with  capital  letters  so  large  that  they  could, 
by  the  help  of  a  telescope,  be  read  on  the  ramparts  of  the  castle. 
Agents  laden  with  letters  and  fresh  provisions  managed  ,  in 
various  disguises  and  by  various  shifts,  to  cross  the  slicet  of 
water  which  then  lay  on  the  north  of  the  fortress  and  to  clamber 
up  the  precipitous  ascent.  The  peal  of  a  musket  from  a  parti- 
cular half  moon  was  the  signal  which  announced  to  the  friends 
of  the  House  of  Stuart  that  another  of  their  emissaries  had  got 
safe  up  the  rock.  But  at  length  the  supplies  were  exhausted; 
and  it  was  necessary  to  capitulate.  Favourable  terms  were 
readily  granted :  the  gamson  marched  out;  and  the  keys  were 
delivered  up  amidst  the  acclamations  of  a  great  multitude  of 

But  the  government  had  far  more  acrimonious  and  more^^"'"""' 

^  I'arlia- 

pertinacious  enemies  in  the  Parliament  House  than   in  the  m'-nt  at 
Castle.    When  the  Estates  reassembled  after  their  adjourn-  Mirsh. 
ment,  the  crown  and  sceptre  of  Scotland  were  displayed  with 

•  SIcgo  of  tlie  Castle  of  Edinburgh,  printed  for  the  Bannatyne  Clubj 
Lond.  Oaz.,  June  ^J.  1689. 


CHAP,  the  wonted  pomp  in  the  hall  as  types  of  the  absent  sovereign. 
•  jggg"  Hamilton  rode  in  state  from  Holyrood  up  the  High  Street  as 
Lord  High  Commissioner;  and  Crawford  took  his  seat  as  Pre- 
sident. Two  Acts,  one  turning  the  Convention  into  a  Parlia- 
ment, the  other  recognising  William  and  Mary  as  King  and 
Queen,  were  rapidly  passed  and  touched  with  the  sceptre;  and 
then  the  conflict  of  factions  began.* 
denc"'of  ^^  speedily  appeared  that  the  opposition  which  Mont- 
tho  Club,  gomery  had  organized  was  irresistibly  strong.  Though  made 
up  of  many  conflicting  elements.  Republicans,  Whigs,  Tories, 
zealous  Presbyterians,  bigoted  Prelatists,  it  acted  for  a  time  as 
one  man,  and  drew  to  itself  a  multitude  of  those  mean  and 
timid  politicians  who  naturally  gravitate  towards  the  stronger 
party.  The  friends  of  the  government  were  few  and  disunited. 
Hamilton  brought  but  half  a  heart  to  the  discharge  of  his  duties. 
He  had  always  been  unstable;  and  he  was  now  discontented. 
He  held  indeed  the  highest  place  to  which  a  subject  could 
aspire.  But  he  imagined  thajt  he  had  only  the  show  of  power 
while  others  enjoyed  the  substance,  and  was  not  sorry  to  see 
those  of  whom  he  was  jealous  thwarted  and  annoyed.  He  did 
not  absolutely  betray  the  prince  whom  he  represented :  but  he 
sometimes  tampered  with  the  chiefs  of  the  Club,  and  sometimes 
did  sly  ill  turns  to  those  who  were  joined  with  him  ui  the  service 
of  the  Crown. 

His  instructions  directed  him  to  give  the  royal  assent  to 
laws  for  the  mitigating  or  removing  of  numerous  grievances, 
and  particularly  to  a  law  restricting  the  power  and  reforming 
the  constitution  of  the  Committee  of  Articles,  and  to  a  law 
establishing  the  Presbyterian  Church  Government.**  But  it 
mattered  not  what  his  instructions  were.  The  chiefs  of  the 
Club  were  bent  on  finding  a  cause  of  quarrel.    The  propositions 

•  Act.  Pari.  Scot.,  June  5.  Jnne  17.  1689. 
••  The  instructions  will  be  found  among  the  Somers  Tracts. 


of  tlie  Governmeat  touchiri}^  the  Lords  of  the  Articles  were  con-  criAP. 
temptuously  rejected.  Hamilton  WTOte  to  London  for  fresh  — j^^jjp 
directions;  and  soon  a  second  plan,  which  left  little  more  than 
the  name  of  the  once  despotic  Committee,  was  sent  back.  But 
the  second  plan,  though  such  as  would  have  contented  judi- 
cious and  temperate  reformers,  shared  the  fate  of  the  first. 
Meanwhile  the  chiefs  of  the  Club  laid  on  the  table  a  law  which 
interdicted  the  King  from  ever  employing  in  any  public  office 
any  person  who  had  ever  borne  any  part  in  any  proceeding  in- 
consistent with  tlie  Claim  of  llight ,  or  who  had  ever  obstructed 
or  retarded  any  good  design  of  the  Estates.  This  law,  uniting, 
within  a  very  short  compass,  almost  all  the  faults  which  a  law 
can  have,  was  well  known  to  be  aimed  at  the  new  Lord  Presi- 
dent of  the  Court  of  Session,  and  at  his  son  the  new  Lord  Ad- 
vocate. Their  prosperity  and  power  made  them  objects  of  en\7 
to  every  disappointed  candidate  for  office.  Tliat  they  were  new 
men,  the  first  of  their  race  who  had  risen  to  distinction,  and 
that  nevertheless  they  had,  by  the  mere  force  of  ability,  become 
as  important  in  the  state  as  the  Duke  of  Hamilton  or  the  Earl  of 
Argyle,  was  a  thought  which  galled  the  hearts  of  many  needy 
and  haughty  patricians.  To  the  Whigs  of  Scotland  the  Dal- 
rymples  were  what  Halifax  and  Caermarthen  were  to  the  "WTiigs 
of  England.  Neither  the  exile  of  Sir  James,  nor  the  zeal  with 
which  Sir  John  had  promoted  the  Revolution,  was  received  as 
an  atonement  for  old  delinquency.  They  had  both  served  the 
bloody  and  idolatrous  House.  They  had  both  oppressed  the 
people  of  God.  Their  late  repentance  might  perhaps  give  them 
a  fair  claim  to  pardon,  but  surely  gave  them  no  right  to  honours 
and  reward" , 

The  friends  of  the  government  in  vain  attempted  to  divert 
the  p.iiention  jf  theParUament  from  the  business  of  persecuting 
the  Dalr)mplii  family  to  the  important  and  pressing  question  of 
Church  Government.    They  said  that  the  old  system  had  been 



CHAP,  abolished;  that  no  other  system  had  been  substituted;  that  it 
was  impossible  to  say  what  was  the  established  religion  of  the 
kingdom;  and  that  the  first  duty  of  the  legislature  was  to  put 
an  end  to  an  anarchy  which  was  daily  producing  disasters  and 
crimes.  The  leaders  of  the  Club  were  not  to  be  so  drawn  away 
from  their  object.  It  was  moved  and  resolved  that  the  consi- 
deration of  ecclesiastical  affairs  should  be  postponed  till  secular 
affairs  had  been  settled.  The  unjust  and  absurd  Act  of  Incapa- 
citation was  carried  by  seventy  four  voices  to  twenty  four. 
Another  vote  still  more  obviously  aimed  at  the  House  of  Stair 
speedily  followed.  The  Parliament  laid  claim  to  a  Veto  on  the 
nomination  of  the  Judges ,  and  assumed  the  power  of  stopping 
the  signet,  in  other  words,  of  suspending  the  whole  administra- 
tion of  justice,  till  this  claim  should  be  allowed.  It  was  plain 
from  what  passed  in  debate  that,  though  the  chiefs  of  the  Club 
had  begun  with  the  Com!  of  Session,  they  did  not  mean  to  end 
there.  The  arguments  used  by  Sir  Patrick  Hume  and  others 
led  directly  to  the  conclusion  that  the  King  ought  not  to  have 
the  appointment  of  any  great  public  functionary.  Sir  Patrick 
indeed  avowed,  both  in  speech  and  in  writing,  his  opinion  that 
the  whole  patronage  of  the  realm  ought  to  be  transferred  from 
the  Crown  to  the  Estates.  When  the  place  of  Treasurer,  of 
Chancellor,  of  Secretary,  was  vacant,  the  Parliament  ought  to 
submit  two  or  three  names  to  his  Majesty;  and  one  of  those 
names  his  Majesty  ought  to  be  bound  to  select.* 

All  this  time  the  Estates  obstinately  refused  to  grant  any 
supply  till  their  Acts  should  have  been  touched  with  the  sceptre. 
The  Lord  High  Commissioner  was  at  length  so  much  provoked 
by  their  perverseness  that,  after  long  temporisinc^  he  refused 
to  touch  even  Acts  which  were  in  themselves  11:5 ,  ^ftctionable, 

and  to  which  his  instructions  empowered  him  toobje  -,gitl^^  This 


*  As  to  Sir  ratrick's  views,  sec  his  letter  of  the  a 

Lockhart's  letter  of  the  nth  of  July,  In  the  Leven  and  ^oWyi  of  Jun®'  * 



state  of  things  would  have  ended  in  some  gi-eat  convulsion,  if  chap. 
the  King  of  Scotland  had  not  been  also  King  of  a  much  greater —j^—- 
and  more  opulent  kingdom.  Charles  the  First  had  never  found 
any  parliament  at  Wcbtminster  more  unmanageable  than  Wil- 
liam, during  this  session,  found  the  parhament  at  Edinburgh. 
But  it  was  not  in  the  power  of  the  parliament  at  Edinburgh  to 
put  on  "William  such  a  pressure  as  the  parliament  at  "West- 
minster had  put  on  Charles.  A  refusal  of  supplies  at  "West- 
minster was  a  serious  thing,  and  left  the  Sovereign  no  choice 
except  to  yield,  or  to  raise  money  by  unconstitutional  means. 
But  a  refusal  of  supplies  at  Edinburgh  reduced  him  to  no  such 
dilemma.  Tlie  largest  sum  that  he  could  hope  to  receive  from 
Scotland  in  a  year  was  less  than  what  he  received  from  England 
every  fortnight.  He  had  therefore  only  to  entrench  himself 
within  the  limits  of  his  undoubted  prerogative,  and  there  to  re- 
main on  the  defensive,  till  some  favourable  conjuncture  should 

"While  these  things  were  passing  in  tlie  Parliament  House,  TmuMes 

*'  in  In  Atliol. 

the  civil  war  in  the  Highlands,  having  been  during  a  few  weeks 
suspended,  broke  forth  again  more  violently  than  before. 
Since  the  splendour  of  the  House  of  Argyle  had  been  eclipsed, 
no  Gaelic  chief  could  vie  in  power  with  the  Marquess  of  Athol. 
The  district  from  which  he  took  his  title,  and  of  which  he  might 
almost  be  called  the  sovereign,  was  in  extent  larger  than  an 
ordinary  county,  and  was  more  fertile,  more  diligently  cul- 
tivated, and  more  thickly  peopled  than  the  greater  part  of  the 
Highlands.  The  men  who  folloM-ed  his  banner  were  supposed 
to  be  not  less  numerous  than  all  the  Macdonalds  and  Macleans 
united,  and  were,  in  strength  and  courage,  inferior  to  no  tribe 
in  the  mountains.  But  the  clan  had  been  made  insignificant 
by  the  insignificance  of  the  chief.     The  Marquess  was  the 

•  My  chief  materials  for  the  history  of  tliis  session  have  been  tho  Acta, 
the  Minutes ,  and  the  Leven  and  Melville  Tapers. 

itacaulay,  Uistor'j.  V.  2 



CHAP,  falsest,  the  most  fickle,  the  most  pusillanimous,  of  mankind. 
■  Already,  in  the  short  space  of  six  months,  he  had  been  several 
times  a  Jacobite,  and  several  times  a  Williamite.  Both  Jacob- 
ites and  Williamites  regarded  him  with  contempt  and  distrust, 
which  respect  for  his  immense  power  prevented  them  from  fully 
expressing.  After  repeatedly  vowing  fidelity  to  both  parties, 
and  repeatedly  betraying  both,  he  began  to  think  that  he 
should  best  provide  for  his  safety  by  abdicating  the  functions 
both  of  a  peer  and  of  a  chieftain,  by  absenting  himself  both 
from  the  Parliament  House  at  Edinburgh  and  from  his  castle  in 
the  mountains,  and  by  quitting  the  country  to  which  he  was 
bound  by  every  tie  of  duty  and  honour  at  the  very  crisis  of  her 
fate.  While  all  Scotland  was  waiting  with  impatience  and 
anxiety  to  see  in  which  army  his  numerous  retainers  would  be 
arrayed,  he  stole  away  to  England,  settled  himself  at  Bath, 
and  pretended  to  drink  the  waters.*  His  principality,  left 
without  a  head,  was  divided  against  itself.  The  general  leaning 
of  the  Athol  men  was  towards  King  James.  For  they  had  been 
employed  by  him,  only  four  years  before,  as  the  ministers  of  his 
vengeance  against  the  House  of  Argyle.  They  had  garrisoned 
Inverary :  they  had  ravaged  Lorn :  they  had  demolished  houses, 
cut  down  fruit  trees,  burned  fishing  boats,  broken  millstones, 
hanged  Campbells,  and  were  therefore  not  likely  to  be  pleased 
by  the  prospect  of  Mac  Galium  More's  restoration.  One  word 
from  the  Marquess  would  have  sent  two  thousand  clajTnores  to 
the  Jacobite  side.  But  that  word  he  would  not  speak ;  and  the 
consequence  was,  that  the  conduct  of  his  followers  was  as 
irresolute  and  inconsistent  as  his  OAvn. 

While  they  were  waiting  for  some  indication  of  his  wishes, 
they  were  called  to  arms  at  once  by  two  leaders,  either  of  whom 

•  "Athol,"  gays  Dundee  contemptuously,  "is  gone  to  England,  who 
did  not  know  what  to  do."  —  Dundee  to  Melfort,  June  27.  1689,  Soe 
Athol's  letters  to  Melville  of  the  21st  of  May  and  the  8th  of  June,  ia  tlio 
Leveu  and  Melville  Papers. 




might,  with  some  show  of  reason,  claim  to  be  considered  as  the  chap. 
representative  of  the  absent  chief.  Lord  Murray,  the  Marquess's 
eklest  son,  who  was  married  to  a  daughter  of  the  Duke  of 
Hamilton,  declared  for  King  "William.  Stewart  of  Ballenach, 
the  Marquess's  confidential  agent,  declared  for  King  James. 
The  people  knew  not  which  summons  to  obey.  He  whose 
authority  would  have  been  held  in  profound  reverence,  had 
plighted  faith  to  both  sides,  and  had  then  run  away  for  fear  of 
being  under  the  necessity  of  joining  either;  nor  was  it  verj-easy 
to  say  whether  the  place  which  he  had  left  vacant  belonged  to 
his  steward  or  to  his  heir  apparent. 

The  most  important  military  post  in  Athol  was  Blair  Castle. 
The  house  which  now  bears  that  name  is  not  distinguished  by 
any  striking  peculiarity  from  other  country  seats  of  the  aristo- 
cracy. The  old  building  was  a  lofty  tower  of  rude  architecture 
which  commanded  a  vale  watered  by  the  Garry.  The  walls 
would  have  offered  very  little  resistance  to  a  battering  train, 
but  were  quite  strong  enough  to  keep  the  herdsmen  of  the 
Grampians  in  awe.  About  five  miles  south  of  this  stronghold, 
the  valley  of  the  Garry  contracts  itself  into  the  celebrated  glen 
of  Killiecrankie.  At  present  a  highway  as  smooth  as  any  road 
in  Middlesex  ascends  gently  from  the  low  countrj'  to  the  summit 
of  the  defile.  AVhite  villas  peep  from  the  birch  forest;  and,  on 
a  fine  summer  day,  there  is  sarcely  a  turn  of  the  pass  at  which 
may  not  be  seen  some  angler  casting  his  fly  on  the  foam  of  the 
river,  some  artist  sketching  a  pinnacle  of  rock,  or  some  party 
of  pleasure  banqueting  on  the  turf  in  the  fretwork  of  shade  and 
sunshine.  But,  in  the  days  of  "William  the  Third,  KQliecrankie 
was  mentioned  with  horror  by  the  peaceful  and  industrious  in- 
habitants of  the  Perthshire  lowlands.  It  was  deemed  the  most 
perilous  of  all  those  dark  ravines  through  which  the  marauders 
of  the  hills  were  wont  to  sallv  forth.  The  sound,  so  musical  to 
modem  ears,  of  the  river  brawling  round  the  mossy  rocks  and 


20  nrsTOBT  ov  England. 

CHAP,  among  the  smooth  pebbles,  the  dark  masses  of  crag  and  ver 


dure  wortliy  of  the  pencil  of  Wilson,  the  fantastic  peaks  bathed, 
at  sunrise  and  sunset,  with  light  rich  as  that  which  glows  on 
the  canvass  of  Claude,  suggested  to  our  ancestors  thoughts  of 
murderous  ambuscades  and  of  bodies  stripped,  gashed,  and 
abandoned  to  the  birds  of  prey.  The  only  path  was  narrow  and 
rugged:  a  horse  could  with  difficulty  be  led  up:  two  men  could 
hardly  walk  abreast;  and,  in  some  places,  the  way  ran  so  close 
by  the  precipice  that  the  traveller  had  great  need  of  a  steady 
eye  and  foot.  Many  years  later,  the  first  Duke  of  Athol  con- 
structed a  road  up  which  it  was  just  possible  to  drag  his  coach. 
But  even  that  road  was  so  steep  and  so  strait  that  a  handful  of 
resolute  men  might  have  defended  it  against  an  anny*;  nor  did 
any  Saxon  consider  a  visit  to  Killiecrankie  as  a  pleasure,  till 
experience  had  taught  the  English  Government  that  the 
weapons  by  which  the  Highlanders  could  be  most  effectually 
subdued  were  the  pickaxe  and  the  spade. 
The  war  The  countiy  which  lay  just  above  this  pass  was  now  the 
out  again  theatre  of  a  war  such  as  the  Highlands  had  not  often  witnessed, 
iiigii-  Men  wearing  the  same  tartan,  and  attached  to  the  same  lord, 
were  arrayed  against  each  other.  The  name  of  the  absent  chief 
was  used,  with  some  show  of  reason,  on  both  sides.  Ballenach, 
at  the  head  of  a  body  of  vassals  who  considered  him  as  the 
representative  of  the  Marquess,  occupied  Blair  Castle.  Murray, 
with  twelve  hundred  followers,  appeared  before  the  walls  and 
demanded  to  be  admitted  into  the  mansion  of  his  family,  the 
mansion  which  would  one  day  be  his  own.  The  gamson  refused 
to  open  the  gates.  Messages  were  sent  off  by  the  besiegers  to 
Edinburgh,  and  by  the  besieged  to  Lochaber.**  In  both  places 
the  tidings  produced  great  agitation.  Mackay  and  Dundee 
agreed  in  thinking  that  the  crisis  required  prompt  and  strenuous 

•  Memoirs  of  Sir  Ewnn  Ccameron. 
*"  Mackay's  Memoirs. 



exertion.  On  the  fate  of  Blair  Castle  probably  depended  the  chap. 
fate  of  all  Athol.  On  the  fate  of  Athol  miyht  depend  the  fate  ■ 
of  Scotland.  Mackay  hastened  northward,  and  ordered  his 
troops  to  assemble  in  the  low  country  of  Perthshire.  Some  of 
them  were  quartered  at  such  a  distance  that  they  did  not  arrive 
in  time.  He  soon,  however,  had  with  him  the  three  Scotch 
regiments  which  had  sensed  in  Holland,  and  which  bore  the 
names  of  their  Colonels,  Mackay  himself,  Balfour,  and  llamsay- 
There  was  also  a  gallant  regiment  of  infantry  from  England, 
then  called  Hastings's,  but  now  known  as  the  thii-teenth  of  the 
line.  "With  these  old  troops  were  joined  two  regiments  newly 
levied  in  the  Lowlands.  One  of  them  was  commanded  by  Lord 
Kenmore;  the  other,  which  had  been  raised  on  the  Border, 
and  which  is  still  styled  the  King's  own  Borderers,  by  Lord 
Leven.  Two  troops  of  horse.  Lord  Annandale's  and  Lord 
Belhaven's,  probably  made  up  the  army  to  the  number  of  above 
three  thousand  men.  Belhaven  rode  at  the  head  of  his  troop : 
but  Annandale,  the  most  factious  of  all  Montgomery's  followers, 
preferred  the  Club  and  the  Parliament  House  to  the  field.* 

Dundee,  meanwhile,  had  summoned  all  the  clans  which 
acknowledged  his  commission  to  assemble  for  an  expedition 
into  Athol.  His  exertions  were  strenuously  seconded  by 
Lochiel.  The  fiery  crosses  were  sent  again  in  all  haste  through 
.\ppin  and  Ardnaraiu-chan,  up  Glenmore,  and  along  Loch 
Leven.  But  the  call  was  so  unexpected,  and  the  time  allowed 
was  so  short,  that  the  muster  was  not  a  very  full  one.  The 
whole  number  of  broadswords  seems  to  have  been  under  three 
thousand.  "\nth  this  force,  such  as  it  was,  Dundee  set  forth. 
On  his  march  he  was  joined  by  succours  which  had  just  arrived 
from  Ulster.  They  consisted  of  little  more  than  three  hundred 
Irish  foot,  ill  ai-med,  ill  clothed,  and  ill  disciplined.  Their 
commander  was  an  officer  named  Cannon ,  who  had  seen  service 

*  Mackay'b  Memoirs. 


CHAP,  in  the  Netherlands,  and  who  might  perhaps  have  acquitted 
-  ^g^g"  himself  well  in  a  subordinate  post  and  in  a  regular  army,  but 
who  was  altogether  unequal  to  the  part  now  assigned  to  him.* 
He  had  already  loitered  among  the  Hebrides  so  long  that  some 
ships  which  had  been  sent  with  him,  and  which  were  laden 
with  stores,  had  been  taken  by  English  cruisers.  He  and  his 
soldiers  had  with  difficulty  escaped  the  same  fate.  Incompetent 
as  he  was,  he  bore  a  commission  which  gave  him  military  rank 
in  Scotland  next  to  Dundee. 

The  disappointment  was  severe.  In  truth  James  would  have 
done  better  to  withhold  all  assistance  from  the  Highlanders 
than  to  mock  them  by  sending  them,  instead  of  the  well  ap- 
pointed army  which  they  had  asked  and  expected,  a  rabble 
contemptible  in  numbers  and  appearance.  It  was  now  evident 
that  whatever  was  done  for  his  cause  in  Scotland  must  be  done 
by  Scottish  hands.** 

While  Mackay  from  one  side ,  and  Dimdee  from  the  other, 
were  advancing  towards  Blair  Castle,  important  events  had 
taken  place  there.  Murray's  adherents  soon  began  to  waver  in 
their  fidelity  to  him.  They  had  an  old  antipathy  to  Whigs ;  for 
they  considered  the  name  of  Whig  as  sjTionymous  with  the 
name  of  Campbell.  They  saw  arrayed  against  them  a  large 
number  of  their  kinsmen,  commanded  by  a  gentleman  who  was 
supposed  to  possess  the  confidence  of  the  Marquess.  The 
besieging  army  therefore  melted  rapidly  away.  Many  returned 
home  on  the  plea  that,  as  their  neighbourhood  was  about  to  be 
the  seat  of  war,  they  must  place  their  families  and  cattle  in 
security.  Others  more  ingenuously  declared  that  they  would 
not  fight  in  such  a  quaiTcl.  One  large  body  went  to  a  brook, 
filled  their  bonnets  with  water,  drank  a  health  to  King  James, 
and  then  dispersed.***    Their  zeal  for  King  James,  however, 

•  Van  Odyck  to  the  Greffier  of  the  States  General,  Aug.  ft.  1689. 
••  Memoirs  of  Sir  Ewan  Cameron. 
•*•  lialcarras's  Memoirs. 

WTLLIAM   Aim   MART.  23 

did  not  induce  them  to  join  the  standard  of  his  general.    They   chap. 
lurked  among  the  rocks  and  thickets  which  overhang  the  Gan-y,  — ^^— 
in  the  hope  that  there  would  soon  be  a  battle,  and  that,  what- 
ever might  be  the  event,  there  would  be  fugitives  and  corpses 
to  plunder. 

Murray  was  in  a  strait.  His  force  had  dwindled  to  three  or 
four  hundred  men:  even  in  those  men  he  could  put  little  trust; 
and  the  Macdonalds  and  Camerons  were  advancing  fast.  He 
therefore  raised  the  siege  of  Blair  Castle,  and  retired  with  a 
few  followers  into  the  defile  of  Killiecrankie.  There  he  was 
soon  joined  by  a  detachment  of  two  hundred  fusileers  whom 
Mackay  had  sent  forward  to  secure  the  pass.  The  main  body  of 
the  Lowland  army  speedily  followed.  * 

Early  in  the  morning  of  Saturday  the  twenty  seventh  of 
July,  Dundee  arrived  at  Blair  Castle.  There  he  learned  that 
Mackay's  troops  were  already  in  the  ravine  of  Killiecrankie.  It 
was  necessary  to  come  to  a  prompt  decision.  A  council  of  war 
was  held.  The  Saxon  officers  were  generally  against  hazarding 
a  battle.  The  Celtic  chiefs  were  of  a  different  opinion.  Glen- 
gaiT)'  and  Lochiel  were  now  both  of  a  mind.  "Fight,  my 
Lord,"  said  Lochiel  with  his  usual  energy;  "fight  immediately: 
fight,  if  you  have  only  one  to  three.  Our  men  are  in  heart. 
Their  only  fear  is  that  the  enemy  should  escape.  Give  them 
their  way;  and  be  assured  that  they  will  either  perish  or  gain  a 
complete  victor}-.  But  if  you  restrain  them ,  if  you  force  them 
to  remain  on  the  defensive,  I  answer  for  nothing.  If  we  do  not 
fight,  we  had  better  break  up  and  retire  to  our  mountains."** 

Dundee's  countenance  brightened.  "You  hear,  gentlemen," 
he  said  to  his  Lowland  officers;  "you  hear  the  opinion  of  one 
who  understands  Highland  war  better  than  any  of  us."  No 
voice  was  raised  on  the  other  side.    It  was  determined  to  fight; 

•  Mackay's  Short  Relation,  dated  Aug.  17.  1689. 
••  Memoirs  of  Sir  Ewan  Cameron. 



CHAP,  and  the  confederated  clans  in  high  spirits  set  forward  to  en- 
■  -  counter  the  enemy. 

The  enemy  meanwhile  had  made  his  way  up  the  pass.  The 
ascent  had  been  long  and  toilsome :  for  even  the  foot  had  to 
climb  by  twos  and  threes;  and  the  baggage  horses,  twelve 
hundred  in  number,  could  mount  only  one  at  a  time.  No 
wheeled  carriage  had  ever  been  tugged  up  that  arduous  path 
The  head  of  the  column  had  emerged  and  was  on  the  table  land, 
while  the  rearguard  was  still  in  the  plain  below.  At  length  the 
passage  was  effected;  and  the  troops  found  themselves  in  a 
valley  of  no  great  extent.  Their  right  was  flanked  by  a  rising 
ground,  their  left  by  the  Garry.  Wearied  with  the  morning's 
work,  they  threw  themselves  on  the  grass  to  take  some  rest  and 

Early  in  the  afternoon,  they  were  roused  by  an  alarm  that 
the  Highlanders  were  approaching.  Regiment  after  regiment 
started  up  and  got  into  order.  In  a  little  while  the  summit  oi 
an  ascent  which  was  about  a  musket  shot  before  them  was 
covered  with  bonnets  and  plaids.  Dundee  rode  forward  for  the 
purpose  of  surveying  the  force  with  which  he  was  to  contend, 
and  then  drew  up  his  own  men  with  as  much  skill  as  their  pe- 
culiar character  permitted  him  to  exert.  It  was  desirable  to 
keep  the  clans  distinct.  Each  tribe,  large  or  small,  formed  a 
column  separated  from  the  next  column  by  a  wide  interval. 
One  of  these  battalions  might  contain  seven  hundred  men, 
while  another  consisted  of  only  a  hundred  and  twenty.  Lochiel 
had  represented  that  it  was  impossible  to  mix  men  of  different 
tribes  without  destroying  all  that  constituted  the  peculiar 
strength  of  a  Highland  army.* 

On  the  right,  close  to  the  Garry ,  were  the  Macleans.  Next 
to  them  were  Cannon  and  his  Irish  foot.  Then  came  the  Mac- 
donalds  of  Clanronald,  commanded  by  the  guardian  of  their 

*  Memoirs  of  Sir  Ewan  Cameron;  Mackay's  Memoirs. 

wiiJJAM  am;  jiAiir.  25 

young  prince.  Oti  tlie  left  were  other  bands  of  Macdonalds.  chap. 
At  the  head  of  one  large  battalion  towered  tiie  stately  form  of  — — -^ 
Glengarry,  who  bore  in  his  hand  the  royal  standard  of  King 
James  the  Seventh.*  Still  further  to  the  left  were  the  cavalr)-, 
a  small  squadron  consisting  of  some  Jacobite  gentlemen  who 
had  fled  from  the  Lowlands  to  the  mountains  and  of  about  forty 
of  Dundee's  old  troopers.  The  horses  had  been  ill  fed  and  ill 
tended  among  the  Grampians,  and  looked  miserably  lean  and 
feeble.  Beyond  them  was  J^ochiel  with  his  Camcrons.  On  the 
extreme  left,  the  men  of  Sky  were  marshalled  by  Macdonald  of 

In  the  Highlands,  as  in  all  countries  where  war  has  not  be- 
come a  science,  men  thought  it  the  most  important  duty  of  a 
commander  to  set  an  example  of  personal  courage  and  of  bodily 
exertion.  Lochiel  was  especially  renowned  for  his  physical 
prowess.  His  clansmen  looked  big  with  pride  when  they  re- 
lated how  he  had  himself  broken  hostile  ranks  and  hewn  down 
tall  warriors.  He  probably  owed  quite  as  much  of.his  influence 
to  these  achievements  as  to  the  high  qualities  which ,  if  fortune 
had  placed  him  in  the  English  Parliament  or  at  the  French 
court,  would  have  made  him  one  of  the  foremost  men  of  his  age. 
He  had  the  sense  however  to  perceive  how  erroneous  was  the 
notion  which  his  comitrymen  had  formed.  He  knew  that  to  give 
and  to  take  blows  was  not  the  business  of  a  general.  He  knew 
with  how  much  difficulty  Dundee  had  been  able  to  keep  to- 
gether, during  a  few  days,  an  army  composed  of  several  clans; 
and  he  knew  tliat  what  Dundee  had  effected  with  difficulty 
Cannon  would  not  be  able  to  effect  at  all.  The  life  on  which  so 
much  depended  must  not  be  sacrificed  to  a  barbarous  prejudice. 
Lochiel  therefore  adjured  Dundee  not  to  run  into  any  unneces- 
sary danger.     "Your  Lordship's  business,"  he  said,  "is  to  over- 

*  Douglas's  Baronage  of  Scotland. 
'*  il.muirs  of  Sir  Ewan  Cameron. 


CHAP,  look  every  thing,  and  to  issue  your  commands.  Our  business 
■jgg^'  is  to  execute  those  commands  bravely  and  promptly."  Dundee 
answered  with  calm  magnanimity  that  there  was  much  weight  in 
what  his  friend  Sir  Ewan  had  urged,  but  that  no  general  could 
effect  any  thing  great  without  possessing  the  confidence  of  his 
men.  "I  must  establish  my  character  for  courage.  Your 
people  expect  to  see  their  leaders  in  the  thickest  of  the  battle ; 
and  to  day  they  shall  see  me  there.  I  promise  you,  on 
my  honour,  that  in  future  fights  I  will  take  more  care  of 

Meanwhile  a  fire  of  musketry  was  kept  up  on  both  sides,  but 
more  skilfully  and  more  steadily  by  the  regular  soldiers  than  by 
the  mountaineers.  The  space  between  the  armies  was  one  cloud 
of  smoke.  Not  a  few  Highlanders  dropped;  and  the  clans 
grew  impatient.  The  sun  however  was  low  in  the  west  before 
Dundee  gave  the  order  to  prepare  for  action.  His  men  raised  a 
great  shout.  The  enemy ,  probably  exhausted  by  the  toil  of  the 
day,  returned  a  feeble  and  wavering  cheer.  "We  shall  do  it 
now,"  said  Lochiel:  "that  is  not  the  cry  of  men  who  are  going 
to  win."  He  had  walked  through  all  his  ranks,  had  addressed 
a  few  words  to  every  Cameron,  and  had  taken  from  every 
Cameron  a  promise  to  conquer  or  die.* 

It  was  past  seven  o'clock.  Dundee  gave  the  word.  The 
Highlanders  dropped  their  plaids.  The  few  who  were  so  luxu- 
rious as  to  wear  rude  socks  of  untanned  hide  spumed  them 
away.  It  was  long  remembered  in  Lochaber  that  Lochiel  took 
off  what  probably  was  the  only  pair  of  shoes  in  his  claa,  and 
charged  barefoot  at  the  head  of  his  men.  The  whole  line  ad- 
vanced firing.  The  enemy  returned  the  fire  and  did  much  execu- 
tion. When  only  a  small  space  was  left  between  the  armies,  the 
Highlanders  suddenly  flung  away  their  firelocks,  drew  their 
broadswords,  and  rushed  forward  with  a  fearful  yell.     The 

*  Memoira  of  Sir  Ewan  Cameron. 



Lowlanders  prepared  to  receive  the  shock;  but  this  was  then  a    chap. 
long  and  awkward  process;  and  the  soldiers  were  still  fumbling- 
with  the  muzzles  of  their  guns  and  the  handles  of  their  bayonets 
when  the  whole  flood  of  Macleans,  Macdonalds,  and  Camerons 
came  down.     In  two  minutes  the  battle  was  lost  and  won.     The 
ranks  of  Balfour's  regiment  })roke.     lie  was  cloven  down  while 
struggling  in  the  press.     Ilamsay's  men  turned  their  backs  and 
dropped  their  arms.    Mackay's  own  foot  were  swept  away  by 
the  furious  onset  of  the  Camerons.     His  brother  and  nephew 
exerted  themselves  in  vain  to  rally  the  men.     The  former  was 
laid  dead  on  the  ground  by  a  stroke  from  a  claymore.     The 
latter,  with  eight  wounds  on  his  body,  made  his  way  through 
the  tumult  and  carnage  to  his  uncle's  side.     Even  in  that  extre- 
mity Mackay  retained  all  his  selfpossession.     He  had  still  one 
hope.     A  charge  of  horse  might  recover  the  day;  for  of  horse 
the  bravest  Highlanders  were  supposed  to  stand  in  awe.    But 
he  called  on  the  horse  in  vain.    Belhaven  indeed  behaved  like  a 
gallant  gentleman:  but  his  troopers,  appalled  by  the  rout  of  the 
infantry,  galloped  off  in  disorder:  Annandale's  men  followed: 
all  was  over;   and  the  mingled  torrent  of  redcoats  and  tartans 
went  raving  down  the  valley  to  the  gorge  of  KiUiecrankie. 

Mackay,  accompanied  by  one  trusty  sen'ant,  spurred  bravely 
through  the  thickest  of  the  clajTnores  and  targets ,  and  reached 
a  point  from  which  he  had  a  view  of  the  field.  His  whole  army 
had  disappeared ,  with  the  exception  of  some  Borderers  whom 
Leven  had  kept  together,  and  of  Hastings's  regiment,  which 
had  poured  a  mui-derous  fire  into  the  Celtic  ranks,  and  which 
still  kept  unbroken  order.  All  the  men  that  could  be  collected 
were  only  a  few  hundreds.  The  general  made  haste  to  lead 
them  across  the  Garry,  and,  having  put  that  river  between 
them  and  the  enemy,  paused  for  a  moment  to  meditate  on  his 

He  could  hardly  understand  how  the  conquerors  could  be  so 


28  JUb'l'OKY   Oi"    ENGLAND. 

CHAP,  unwise  as  to   allow  him  even  that  moment  for  deliberation. 

-jgg^'  They  might  with  ease  have  killed  or  taken  all  who  were  with 
him  before  the  night  closed  in.  But  the  energy  of  the  Celtic 
warriors  had  spent  itself  in  one  furious  rush  and  one  short 
struggle.  The  pass  was  choked  by  the  twelve  hundred  beasts 
of  burden  which  carried  the  provisions  and  baggage  of  the  van- 
quished army.  Such  a  booty  was  irresistibly  tempting  to  men 
who  were  impelled  to  war  quite  as  much  by  the  desire  of  rapine 
as  by  the  desire  of  glory.  It  is  probable  that  few  even  of  the 
chiefs  were  disposed  to  leave  so  rich  a  prize  for  the  sake  of 
King  James.  Dundee  himself  might  at  that  moment  have  been 
unable  to  persuade  his  followers  to  quit  the  heaps  of  spoil,  and 
to  complete  the  greatwork  of  the  day;  andDundeewasno  more. 

Deaih  of  At  the  beginning  of  the  action  he  had  taken  his  place  in 
front  of  his  little  band  of  cavalry.  He  bade  them  follow  him, 
and  rode  forward.  But  it  seemed  to  be  decreed  that,  on  that 
day,  the  Lowland  Scotch  should  in  both  armies  appear  to  dis- 
advantage. The  horse  hesitated.  Dundee  turned  round,  stood 
up  in  his  stirrups,  and,  'waving  his  hat,  invited  them  to  come 
on.  As  he  lifted  his  arm,  his  cuirass  rose,  and  exposed  the 
lower  part  of  his  left  side.  A  musket  ball  struck  him ;  his  horse 
sprang  forward  and  plunged  into  a  cloud  of  smoke  and  dust, 
which  hid  from  both  armies  the  fall  of  the  victorious  general. 
A  person  named  Johnstone  was  near  him  and  caught  him  as  he 
sank  down  from  the  saddle.  "How  goes  the  day?"  said 
Dundee.  "  Well  for  King  James ; "  answered  Johnstone :  "  but 
I  am  sorrj'  for  Your  Lordship."  "If  it  is  well  for  him,"  answered 
the  dying  man,  "it  matters  the  less  forme."  He  never  spoke 
again;  but  when,  half  an  hour  later.  Lord  Dunfermline  and 
some  other  friends  came  to  the  spot,  they  thought  that  they 
could  still  discern  some  faint  remains  of  life.  The  body,  MTap- 
ped  in  two  plaids,  was  cai-ried  to  the  Castle  of  Blair.* 

•  As  to  the  battle,  see  Mackay's  Memoirs,  Letters,  and  Short  Kela- 


Mackay,  ^vho  was  ignorant  of  Dundee's  fate,  and  well  nc-  riiAP. 
quainted  with  Dundee's  skill  and  activity,  expected  to  he  in-  losa! 
stantly  and  hotly  pursued,  and  had  very  little  expectation  of  r.oirrMof 
being  able  to  save  even  the  scanty  remains  of  the  vanquished  "  ''' 
army.  He  could  not  retreat  by  the  pass:  for  the  Highlanders 
were  already  there.  He  therefore  resolved  to  push  across  the 
mountains  towards  the  valley  of  the  Tay.  He  soon  overtook 
two  or  three  hundred  of  his  runaways  who  had  taken  the  same 
road.  Most  of  them  belonged  to  Ramsay's  regiment,  and  must 
have  seen  serA'ice.  But  they  were  imarmed:  they  were  utterly 
bewildered  by  the  recent  disaster;  and  the  general  could  find 
among  them  no  remains  either  of  martial  discipline  or  of  martial 
spirit.  His  situation  was  one  which  must  have  severely  tried  the 
firmest  ner\-es.  Night  had  set  in:  he  was  in  a  desert:  he  had 
no  guide:  a  victorious  enemy  waa,  in  all  human  probability,  on 
his  track ;  and  he  had  to  provide  for  the  safety  of  a  crowd  of  men 
who  had  lostbothhead  and  he:irt.  He  had  just  suffered  a  defeat  of 
all  defeats  the  most  painful  and  humiliating.  His  domestic  feelings 
had  been  not  less  severelywounded  than  his  professional  feelings. 
One  dear  kinsman  had  just  been  struck  dead  before  his  eyes. 
Another,  bleeding  from  many  wounds,  moved  feebly  at  his  side. 
Rut  the  unfortunate  general's  courage  was  sustained  by  a  firm 
faith  in  God,  and  a  high  sense  of  duty  to  the  state.  In  the  midst 
of  misery  and  disgrace,  he  still  held  his  head  nobly  erect,  and 
found  fortitude,  not  only  for  himself,  but  for  all  around  him. 
His  first  care  was  to  be  sui-e  of  his  road.     A  solitarj-  light  which 

tion;  the  Memoirs  of  Dundee;  Memoirs  of  Sir  Ewan  Cameron;  Nisbet's 
and  Osburno's  depositions  in  tlic  Appendix  to  tlio  Act.  Pari,  of  July  14.  1G90. 
See  also  tlic  account  of  the  battle  in  one  of  Hurt's  Letter.'.  Macpherson 
printed  a  letter  from  Dundee  to  James,  dated  tlic  day  after  tlio  battle. 
I  need  not  say  t]\at  it  is  as  impudent  a  forgery  as  Finpnl.  The  author  of 
the  Memoirs  of  Dundee  says  that  Lord  Leven  was  scared  by  the  sight  of  the 
Highland  weapons,  and  set  the  example  of  flight.  This  is  a  spiteful  false- 
hood. That  Leven  behaved  remarkably  well  is  proved  by  Muckay's  Letters, 
Memoirs,  and  Short  Relation. 



CHAP,  twinkled  through  the  darkness  guided  him  to  a  small  hovel. 
•The  inmates  spoke  no  tongue  but  the  Gaelic,  and  were  at  first 
scared  by  the  appearance  of  uniforms  and  arms.  But  Mackay's 
gentle  manner  removed  their  apprehension:  their  language  had 
been  familiar  to  him  in  childhood;  and  he  retained  enough  of  it 
to  communicate  with  them.  By  their  directions,  and  by  the 
help  of  a  pocket  map,  in  which  the  routes  through  that  wild 
country  were  roughly  laid  down,  he  was  able  to  find  his  way. 
He  marched  all  night.  When  day  broke  his  task  was  more 
difficult  than  ever.  Light  increased  the  terror  of  his  com- 
panions. Hastings's  men  and  Leven's  men  indeed  still  behaved 
themselves  like  soldiers.  But  the  fugitives  from  Ramsay's  were 
a  mere  rabble.  They  had  flung  away  their  muskets.  The 
broadswords  from  which  they  had  fled  were  ever  in  their  eyes. 
Every  fresh  object  caused  a  fresh  panic.  A  company  of  herdsmen 
in  plaids  driving  cattle  was  magnified  by  imagination  into  a  host 
of  Celtic  warriors.  Some  of  the  runaways  left  the  main  body 
and  fled  to  the  hills,  where  their  cowardice  met  with  a  proper 
punishment.  They  were  killed  for  their  coats  and  shoes ;  and 
their  naked  carcasses  were  left  for  a  prey  to  the  eagles  of  Ben 
Lawers.  The  desertion  would  have  been  much  greater,  had 
not  Mackay  and  his  officers,  pistol  in  hand,  threatened  to  blow 
out  the  brains  of  any  man  whom  they  caught  attempting  to 
steal  ofl'. 

At  length  the  weary  fugitives  came  in  sight  of  Weems  Castle. 
The  proprietor  of  the  mansion  was  a  friend  to  the  new  govern- 
ment, and  extended  to  them  such  hospitality  as  was  in  his 
power.  His  stores  of  oatmeal  were  brought  out:  kine  were 
slaughtered;  and  a  rude  and  hasty  meal  was  set  before  the 
numerous  guests.  Thus  refreshed,  they  again  set  forth,  and 
marched  all  day  over  bog,  moor,  and  mountain.  Thinly  in- 
habited as  the  country  was,  they  could  plainly  see  that  the 
report  of  their  disaster  had  already  spread  far,  and  that  the  po- 

WILLIAM    AND   MAUt.  31 

pulation  was  every  where  in  a  state  of  great  excitement     Late    cfiap. 
at  night  they  reached  Castle  Drummond,  which  was  held  for    ^^^g  ■ 
King  AVilliam  by  a  small  garrison ;  and ,  on  the  following  day, 
they  proceeded  with  less  difficulty  to  StirHng.* 

The  tidinsjs  of  their  defeat  had  outrun  them.     All  Scotland  fj"'"' "' 
was  in  a  ferment.     The  disaster  had  indeed  been  great:  but  it  otKiiiie- 
was  exaggerated  by  the  wild  hopes  of  one  party  and  by  the  wild 
fears  of  the  other.     It  was  at  first  believed  that  the  whole  army 
of  King  William  had  perished;  that  Mackay  himself  had  fallen; 
that  Dundee,  at  the  head  of  a  gi-eat  host  of  barbarians,  flushed 
with  victory  and  impatient  for  spoil,  had  abready  descended 
from  the  hills;  that  he  was  master  of  the  whole  countrj-  beyond 
the  Forth;  that  Fife  was  up  to  join  him;  that  in  three  days  he 
would  be  at  Stirling;  that  in  a  week  he  would  be  at  HoljTood. 
Messengers  were  sent  to  urge  a  regiment  which  lay  in  Northum- 
berland to  hasten  across  the  border.     Others  carried  to  London 
earnest  entreaties  that  His  Majesty  would  instantly  send  every 
soldier  that  could  be  spared,  nay,  that  he  would  come  himself 
to  save  his  northern  kingdom.    The  factions  of  the  Parliament  ^j'^'^^p"): 
House,  awestruck  bv  the  common  danger,  forgot  to  wrangle,  liamem 
Courtiers  and  malecontents  with  one  voice  implored  the  Lord  ed. 
High  Commissioner  to  close  the  session,  and  to  dismiss  them 
from  a  place  where  their  dehberations  might  soon  be  interrupted 
by  the  mountaineers.     It  was  seriously  considered  whether  it 
might  not  be  expedient  to  abandon  Edinburgh,  to  send  the 
numerous  state  prisoners  who  were  in  the  Castle  and  the  Tol- 
booth  on  board  of  a  man  of  war  which  lay  off  Leith,  and  to 
transfer  the  seat  of  government  to  Glasgow. 

The  news  of  Dundee's  victory  was  every  where  speedily 
followed  by  the  news  of  his  death;  and  it  is  a  strong  proof  of  the 
extent  and  \'igour  of  his  faculties,  that  his  death  seems  every 

•  Ma&kay'a  Memoirs.  Life  of  General  Hugh  Mackay  by  J.  Mackay  of 



where  to  have  been  regarded  as  a  complete  set  o£F  against  his 
victory.  Hamilton ,  before  he  adjourned  the  Estates ,  informed 
them  that  he  had  good  tidings  for  them;  that  Dundee  was 
certainly  dead;  and  that  therefore  the  rebels  had  on  the  whole 
sustained  a  defeat.  In  several  letters  written  at  that  conjuncture 
by  able  and  experienced  politicians  a  similar  opinion  is  ex- 
pressed. The  messenger  who  rode  with  the  news  of  the  battle 
to  the  English  Court  was  fast  followed  by  another  who  carried  a 
despatch  for  the  King,  and,  not  finding  His  Majesty  at  Saint 
James's,  galloped  to  Hampton  Court.  Nobody  in  the  capital 
ventured  to  break  the  seal;  but  fortunately,  after  the  letter  had 
been  closed,  some  friendly  hand  had  hastily  written  on  the 
outside  a  few  words  of  comfort:  "Dundee  is  killed.  Mackayhas 
got  to  Stirling:"  and  these  words  quieted  the  minds  of  the 

From  the  pass  of  Killiecrankie  the  Highlanders  had  retired, 
proud  of  their  victory,  and  laden  with  spoil,  to  the  Castle  of 
Blair.  They  boasted  that  the  field  of  battle  was  covered  with 
heaps  of  the  Saxon  soldiers,  and  that  the  appearance  of  the 
corpses  bore  ample  testimony  to  the  power  of  a  good  Gaelic 
broadsword  in  a  good  Gaelic  right  hand.  Heads  were  found 
cloven  down  to  the  throat,  and  sculls  struck  clean  off  just  above 
the  ears.  Tlie  conquerors  however  had  bought  their  victory 
dear.  \^Tiile  they  were  advancing,  they  had  been  much  galled 
by  the  musketry  of  the  enemy;  and,  even  after  the  decisive 
charge,  Hastings's  Englishmen  and  some  of  Leven's  borderers 
had  continued  to  keep  up  a  steady  fire.  A  hundred  and  twenty 
Camerons  had  been  slain:  the  loss  of  the  Macdonalds  had  been 
still  gi-eater;  and  several  gentlemen  ofbirth  and  note  had  fallen.** 

Dundee  was  buried  in  the  church  of  Blair  Athol:  but  no 

•  Letter  of  the  Extraordirmry  Ambassadors  to  the  Greffier  of  the  States 
General,  August  y'j-  1689;  and  a  letter  of  the  same  date  from  Van  Odyck, 
who  wag  at  Hampton  Court. 
**  Memoirs  of  Sir  Ewan  Cameron;  Memoirs  of  Dundee.  ^ 


WTT.T.TAM    ANT)   MABT.  33 

monument  was  erected  over  his  grave;  and  the  church  itself  cnvp. 
has  long  disappeared.  A  nide  stone  on  the  field  of  battle- 
marks,  if  local  tradition  can  be  trusted,  the  place  where  he 
fell.*  During  the  last  three  months  of  his  life  he  had  approved 
himself  a  great  warrior  and  politician;  and  his  name  is  there- 
fore mentioned  with  respect  by  that  large  class  of  persons  who 
think  that  there  is  no  excess  of  wickedness  for  which  courage 
and  ability  do  not  atone. 

It  is  curious  that  the  two  most  remarkable  battles  that  per- 
haps were  ever  gained  by  irregular  over  regular  troops  should 
have  been  fought  in  the  same  week;  the  battle  of  Killiecrankie, 
and  the  battle  of  Newton  Butler.  In  both  battles  the  success 
of  the  irregular  troops  was  singularly  rapid  and  complete.  In 
both  battles  the  panic  of  the  regular  troops,  in  spite  of  the  con- 
spicuous example  of  coiu^age  set  by  their  generals,  was  singu- 
larly disgraceful.  It  ought  also  to  be  noted  that,  of  these 
extraordinaiy  victories ,  one  was  gained  by  Celts  over  Saxons, 
and  the  other  by  Saxons  over  Celts.  The  victory  of  Killie- 
crankie indeed,  though  neither  more  splendid  nor  more  im- 
portant than  the  victor}'  of  Newton  Butler,  is  far  more  widely 
renowned ;  and  the  reason  is  evident.  The  Anglosaxon  and  the 
Celt  have  been  reconciled  in  Scotland,  and  have  never  been 
reconciled  in  Ireland.  In  Scotland  all  the  great  actions  of  both 
races  are  thrown  into  a  common  stock,  and  are  considered  as 
making  up  the  glory  which  belongs  to  the  whole  countrj'.  So 
completely  has  the  old  antipathy  been  extinguished  that  no- 
thing is  more  usual  than  to  hear  a  Lowlander  talk  with  com- 
placency and  even  with  pride  of  the  most  humiliating  defeat 
that  his  ancestors  ever  underwent.  It  would  be  difficult  to 
name  any  eminent  man  in  whom  national  feeling  and  clannish 
feeling  were  stronger  than  in  Sir  Walter  Scott.     Yet  when  Sir 

•  The  tradition  is  certainly  much  more  than  a  hundred  and  twenty 
yours  oM.     The  stone  was  pointed  out  to  Burt. 

ilacantay,  History.  V.  3 


cnAP,  Walter  Scott  mentioned  Killiecrankie  he  seemed  utterly  to 
1689.  forget  that  he  was  a  Saxon,  that  he  was  of  the  same  blood  and 
of  the  same  speech  with  Ramsay's  foot  and  Annandale's  horse. 
His  heart  swelled  with  triumph  when  he  related  how  his  own 
kindred  had  fled  like  hares  before  a  smaller  number  of  warriors 
of  a  different  breed  and  of  a  different  tongue. 

In  Ireland  the  feud  remains  unhealed.  The  name  of  Newton 
Butler,  insultingly  repeated  by  a  minority,  is  hateful  to  the 
great  majority  of  the  population.  If  a  monument  were  set  up 
on  the  field  of  battle,  it  would  probably  be  defaced:  if  a  festival 
were  held  in  Cork  or  Waterford  on  the  anniversary  of  the 
battle ,  it  would  probably  be  interrupted  by  violence.  The  most 
illustrious  Irish  poet  of  oui*  time  would  have  thought  it  treason 
to  his  country  to  sing  the  praises  of  the  conquerors.  One  of  the 
most  learned  and  diligent  Irish  archaeologists  of  our  time  has 
laboured,  not  indeed  very  successfully,  to  prove  that  the  event 
of  the  day  was  decided  by  a  mere  accident  from  which  the 
Englishry  could  derive  no  glory.  We  cannot  wonder  that  the 
victory  of  the  Highlanders  should  be  more  celebrated  than  the 
victory  of  the  Enniskilleners,  when  we  consider  that  the  victory 
of  the  Highlanders  is  matter  of  boast  to  all  Scotland ,  and  that 
the  victory  of  the  Enniskilleners  is  matter  of  shame  to  three 
fourths  of  Ireland. 

As  far  as  the  great  interests  of  the  State  were  concerned,  it 
mattered  not  at  all  whether  the  battle  of  Killiecrankie  were  lost 
or  won.  It  is  very  improbable  that  even  Dundee ,  if  he  had  sur- 
vived the  most  glorious  day  of  his  life,  could  have  surmounted 
those  difficulties  which  sprang  from  the  peculiar  nature  of  his 
army,  and  which  would  have  increased  tenfold  as  soon  as  the 
war  was  transferred  to  the  Lowlands.  It  is  certain  that  his 
successor  was  altogether  unequal  to  the  task.  During  a  day  or 
two,  indeed,  the  new  general  might  flatter  himself  that  all 
would  go  well.    His  army  was  rapidly  swollen  to  near  double 


WLLUAM   ANl)   MAKT.  35 

the  number  of  clajTiiorcs  that  Dundee  had  commanded.     The    chap. 


Stewarts  of  Appin,  who,  though  full  of  zeal,  had  not  been  able —^^^j^ 
to  come  up  in  time  for  the  battle,  were  among  the  first  whoThciiigh- 
arrived.  Several  clans,  which  had  hitherto  waited  to  see  which  rchif"'"' 
side  was  the  stronger,  were  now  eager  to  descend  on  the  Low- 
lands under  the  standard  of  King  James  the  Seventh.  The 
Grants  indeed  continued  to  bear  true  allegiance  to  William  and 
Mary ;  and  the  Mackintoshes  were  kept  neutral  by  unconquer- 
able aversion  to  Keppoch.  But  Macphersons,  Farquharsons, 
and  Frasers  came  in  crowds  to  the  camp  at  Blair.  The  hesitation 
of  the  Athol  men  was  at  an  end.  Many  of  them  had  lurked, 
during  the  fight,  among  the  crags  and  birch  trees  of  Killie- 
crankie,  and,  as  soon  as  the  event  of  the  day  was  decided,  had 
emerged  from  those  hiding  places  to  strip  and  butcher  the 
fugitives  who  tried  to  escape  by  the  pass.  The  Kobertsons, 
a  Gaelic  race,  though  bearing  a  Saxon  name,  gave  in  at  this 
conjuncture  their  adhesion  to  the  cause  of  the  exiled  king. 
Their  chief  Alexander,  who  took  his  appellation  from  his  lord- 
ship of  Struan,  was  a  \ery  young  man  and  a  student  at  the 
University  of  Saint  Andrew's.  He  had  there  acquired  a  smatter- 
ing of  letters,  and  had  been  initiated  much  more  deeply  into 
Tory  politics.  He  now  joined  the  Highland  army,  and  con- 
tinued, through  a  long  life,  to  be  constant  to  the  Jacobite 
cause.  His  part,  however,  in  public  aff"airs  was  so  insignificant 
that  his  name  would  not  now  be  remembered,  if  he  had  not 
left  a  volume  of  poems,  always  very  stupid  and  often  very  pro- 
fligate. Had  this  book  been  manufactured  in  Grub  Street,  it 
would  scarcely  have  been  honoured  with  a  quarter  of  a  line  in 
the  Dunciad.  But  it  attracted  some  notice  on  account  of  the 
situation  of  the  writer.  For,  a  hundred  and  twenty  years  ago, 
an  eclogue  or  a  lampoon  written  by  a  Highland  chief  was  a 
literary  portent.* 

*  See  the  Uialory  prefixed  to  the  poems  of  Alexauder  Robertson.    In 




36  mSTOBT   OF  ENOr-AKTD. 

CHAP.  But,  though  the  numerical  strength  of  Cannon's  forces  ^ras 
increasing,  their  efficiency  was  diminishing.  Every  new  tribe 
which  joined  the  camp  brought  with  it  some  new  cause  of  dis- 
sension. In  the  hour  of  peril,  the  most  arrogant  and  mutinous 
spirits  will  often  submit  to  the  guidance  of  superior  genius. 
Yet,  even  in  the  hour  of  peril,  and  even  to  the  genius  of 
Dundee,  the  Celtic  chiefs  had  yielded  but  a  precarious  and  im- 
perfect obedience.  To  restrain  them,  when  intoxicated  with 
success  and  confident  of  their  strength,  would  probably  have 
been  too  hard  a  task  even  for  him,  as  it  had  been,  in  the  pre- 
ceding generation ,  too  hard  a  task  for  Montrose.  The  new 
general  did  nothing  but  hesitate  and  blunder.  One  of  his  first 
acts  was  to  send  a  large  body  of  men,  chiefly  Robertsons,  down 
into  the  low  country  for  the  purpose  of  collecting  provisions. 
He  seems  to  have  supposed  that  this  detachment  would  without 
difficulty  occupy  Perth.  But  Mackay  had  already  restored  order 
among  the  remains  of  his  army :  he  had  assembled  round  him 
some  troops  which  had  not  shared  in  the  disgrace  of  the  late 
defeat;  and  he  was  again  ready  for  action.  Cruel  as  his  suffer- 
ings had  been ,  he  had  wisely  and  magnanimously  resolved  not 
to  punish  what  was  past.  To  distinguish  between  degrees 
of  guilt  was  not  easy.  To  decimate  the  guilty  would  have  been 
to  commit  a  frightful  massacre.  His  habitual  piety  too  led  him 
to  consider  the  unexampled  panic  which  had  seized  his  soldiers 
as  a  proof  rather  of  the  divine  displeasure  than  of  their 
cowardice.  He  acknowledged  with  heroic  humility  that  the 
singular  firmness  which  he  had  himself  displayed  in  the  midst 
of  the  confusion  and  havoc  was  not  his  own,  and  that  he  might 
well,  but  for  the  support  of  a  higher  power,  have  behaved  as 
pusillanimously  as  any  of  the  wretched  runaM'ays  who  had 

tliis  history  he  is  represented  as  having  Joined  before  the  battle  of  Killie- 
crankio.  But  it  appears  from  the  evidence  which  is  in  the  Appendix  to  tlie 
Act.  Pari.  Scot,  of  July  14.  1690,  that  he  came  in  on  the  following  day. 

WILUAM.   AM)   MAUY.  37 

thrown  away  their  weapons  and  implored  quarter  in  vain  from    chap. 
the  barbarous  marauders  of  Alhol.     His  dependence  on  heaven  • 


did  not,  however,  prevent  him  from  appljnnt;  himself  vigorously 
to  the  work  of  providing,  as  far  us  human  prudence  could  pro- 
vide, against  the  recurrence  of  such  a  calamity  as  that  which  lie 
had  just  experienced.  The  immediate  cause  of  his  defeat  was 
the  difficulty  of  fixing  bayonets.  The  firelock  of  the  High- 
lander was  quite  distinct  from  the  weapon  which  he  used  in 
close  fight.  He  discharged  his  shot,  threw  away  his  gun,  and 
fell  on  with  his  sword.  This  was  the  work  of  a  moment.  It  took 
the  regular  musketeer  two  or  three  minutes  to  alter  his  missile 
weapon  into  a  weapon  with  which  he  could  encounter  an  enemy 
hand  to  hand;  and  during  these  two  or  three  minutes  the  event 
of  the  battle  of  Killiecrankie  had  been  decided.  Mackay  there- 
fore ordered  all  his  bayonets  to  be  so  formed  that  they  might  be 
screwed  upon  the  barrel  without  stopping  it  up,  and  that  his 
men  might  be  able  to  receive  a  charge  the  very  instant  after 

As  soon  as  he  learned  that  a  detachment  of  the  Gaelic  anny  skirmish 
was  advancing  towards  Perth,  he  hastened  to  meet  them  at  the  john- 
head  of  a  body  of  dragoons  who  had  not  been  in  the  battle, 
and  whose  spirit  was  therefore  imbroken.  On  Wednesday  the 
thirty  first  of  July,  only  four  days  after  his  defeat,  he  fell  in 
with  the  Robertsons  near  Saint  Johnston's,  attacked  them, 
routed  them,  killed  a  hundred  and  twenty  of  them,  and  took 
thirty  prisoners,  with  the  loss  of  only  a  single  soldier.**  This 
skirmish  produced  an  effect  quite  out  of  proportion  to  the 
number  of  the  combatants  or  of  the  slain.  The  reputation 
of  the  Celtic  arms  went  down  almost  as  fast  as  it  had  risen. 
During  two  or  three  days  it  had  been  every  where  hnagined 
that  those  arms  were  invincible.     There  was  now  a  reaction. 

•  Muckay's  Momoirs. 
••  Al.ickuy'a  Memoirs;  Momoirs  of  Sir  Ewan  Camuryii. 

38  HISTOBY   OF  ENGLAin). 

CHAP.  It  was  perceived  that  what  had  happened  at  Killiecrankie  was 


•  jggg"  an  exception  to  ordinary  rules,  and  that  the  Highlanders  were 
not,  except  in  very  peculiar  circumstances,  a  match  for  good 
regular  soldiers. 

Disorders       Meanwhile    the    disorders    of    Cannon's    camp    went    on 

in  the         ^  ' 

Highland  increasing.  He  called  a  council  of  war  to  consider  what  course 
it  would  be  advisable  to  take.  But  as  soon  as  the  council  had 
met,  a  preliminarj"  question  was  raised.  "V\lio  were  entitled  to 
be  consulted?  The  army  was  almost  exclusively  a  Highland 
army.  Thcrecent  victory  had  been  won  exclusively  by  Highland 
wan-iors.  Great  chiefs,  who  had  brought  six  or  seven  hundred 
fighting  men  into  the  field ,  did  not  think  it  fair  that  they  should 
be  outvoted  by  gentlemen  from  Ireland  and  from  the  low 
country,  who  bore  indeed  King  James's  commission,  and  were 
called  Colonels  and  Captains,  but  who  were  Colonels  without 
regiments  and  Captains  without  companies.  Lochiel  spoke 
strongly  in  behalf  of  the  class  to  which  he  belonged:  but 
Cannon  decided  that  the  votes  of  the  Saxon  officers  should  be 

It  was  next  considered  what  was  to  be  the  plan  of  the  cam- 
paign. Lochiel  was  for  advancing,  for  marching  towards  Mackay 
wherever  Mackay  might  be,  and  for  giving  battle  again.  It  can 
hardly  be  supposed  that  success  had  so  turned  the  head  of  the 
wise  chief  of  the  Camerons  as  to  make  him  insensible  of  the 
danger  of  the  course  which  he  recommended.  But  he  probably 
conceived  that  nothing  but  a  choice  between  dangers  was  left 
to  him.  His  notion  was  that  vigorous  action  was  necessary  to 
the  very  being  of  a  Highland  army,  and  that  the  coaKtion 
of  clans  would  last  only  while  they  were  impatiently  pushing 
forward  from  battlefield  to  battlefield.  He  was  again  overruled. 
All  his  hopes  of  success  were  now  at  an  end.  His  pride  was 
severely  wounded.     He  had  submitted  to  the  ascendency  of 

•  Memoirs  of  Sir  Ewan  Cameron. 


a  great  captain:  but  he  cared  as  little  as  any  Whig  for  a  royal    chap 



commission.  He  had  been  willing  to  be  the  right  hand  of- 
Dundee:  but  he  would  not  be  ordered  about  by  Cannon.  He 
quitted  the  camp,  and  retired  to  Lochaber.  He  indeed  directed 
his  clan  to  remain.  But  the  clan,  deprived  of  the  leader  whom 
it  adored,  and  aware  that  he  had  withdrawn  himself  in  ill 
humour,  was  no  longer  the  same  terrible  column  which  had 
a  few  days  before  kept  so  well  the  vow  to  perish  or  to  conquer. 
Macdonald  of  Sleat,  whose  forces  exceeded  in  number  those  of 
any  other  of  the  confederate  chiefs,  followed  Lochiel's  example 
and  returned  to  Sky.* 

Mackay's  arrangements  were  by  this  time  complete ;   and  MacUay'* 
he  had  little  doubt  that,  if  the  rebels  came  down  to  attack  him,  ,ns\e- 
the  regular  army  would  retrieve  the  honour  which  had  been  lost  b"the 
at  Killiecrankie.     His  chief  difficulties  arose  from  the  imwise  „i°is'er,, 
interference  of  the  ministers  of  the  Crown  at  Edinburgh  with 
matters  which  ought  to  have  been  left  to  his  direction.     Tlie 
truth  seems  to  be  that  they,  after  the  ordinary  fashion  of  men 
who,  having  no  military  experience,  sit  in  judgment  on  military 
operations,  considered  success  as  the  only  test  of  the  ability  of  a 
commander.  AVhoever  wins  a  battle  is,  in  the  estimation  of  such 
persons,  a  great  general:  whoever  is  beaten  is  a  bad  general; 
and  no  general  had  ever  been  more  completely  beaten  than 
Mackay.     AVilliam,  on  the  other  hand,  continued  to  place  entu-e 
confidence  in  his  unfortimate  lieutenant.     To  the  disparaging 
remarks  of  critics  who  had  never  seen  a  skirmish,  Portland 
replied,   by  his  master's  orders,   that  Mackay  was  perfectly 
trustworthy ,  that  he  was  brave ,  that  he  understood  war  better 
than  any  other  officer  in  Scotland ,  and  that  it  was  much  to  be 
regretted  that  any  prejudice  should  exist  against  so  good  a  man 
and  so  good  a  soldier.** 

•  Memoirs  of  Sir  Ewan  Cameron. 

••  See  Portland's  Letters  to  Melville  of  April  22.  «nd  May  16.  1690,  In 
the  Loveu  and  Melville  Papers. 


CHAP.        The  unjust  contempt  with  which  the  Scotch  Privy  Councillors 

-^ggg'    regarded  Mackay  led  them  into  a  great  error  which  might  well 

The  ca-  havB  caused  a  great  disaster.    The  Cameronian  regiment  was 

an"su-    sent  to  garrison  Dunkeld.     Of  this  arrangement  Mackay  alto- 

Dunkeid!  gather  disapproved.     He  knew  that  at  Dunkeld  these  troops 

would  be  near  the  enemy;   that  they  would  be  far  from  all 

assistance;   that  they  would  be  in  an  open  town;   that  they 

would  be  surrounded  by  a  hostile  population;  that  they  were 

very   imperfectly    disciplined,   though    doubtless   brave    and 

zealous ;  that  they  were  regarded  by  the  whole  Jacobite  party 

throughout  Scotland  with  peculiar  malevolence;  and  that  in  all 

probability  some  great  effort  would  be  made  to  disgrace  and 

destroy  them.  * 

The  General's  opinion  was  disregarded;  and  the  Cameronians 
occupied  the  post  assigned  to  them.  It  soon  appeared  that  his 
forebodings  were  just.  The  inhabitants  of  the  country  round 
Dunkeld  furnished  Cannon  with  intelligence,  and  urged  him 
to  make  a  bold  push.  The  peasantry  of  Athol,  impatient  for 
spoil,  came  in  great  numbers  to  swell  his  army.  The  regiment 
hourly  expected  to  be  attacked,  and  became  discontented  and 
turbulent.  The  men,  intrepid,  indeed,  both  from  constitution 
and  from  enthusiasm,  but  not  yet  broken  to  habits  of  military 
submission,  expostulated  with  Cleland,  who  commanded  them. 
They  had,  they  imagined,  been  recklessly,  if  not  perfidiously, 
sent  to  certain  destruction.  They  were  protected  by  no  ram- 
parts: they  had  a  very  scanty  stock  of  ammunition:  they  were 
hemmed  in  by  enemies.  An  officer  might  mount  and  gallop 
beyond  reach  of  danger  in  an  hour;  but  the  private  soldier  must 
stay  and  be  butchered.  "Neither  I,"  said  Cleland,  "nor  any 
of  my  officers  will,  in  any  extremity,  abandon  you.  Bring  out 
my  horse,  all  our  horses;  they  shall  be  shot  dead."  These 
words  produced  a  complete  change  of  feeling.  The  men 
•  Mackay's  Memoirs;  Memoirs  ofSirEwan  Cameron. 


answered  that  the  horses  should  not  be  shot,  thfit  they  wanted    chap. 
no  pledge  from  their  brave  Colonel  except  his  word,  and  that  — jy^^jj^— 
they  would  run  the  last  hazard  Mith  him.     They  kept  their 
promise  well.     The  Puritan  blood  was  now  thoroughly  up;  and 
what  that  blood  was  when  it  was  up  had  been  proved  on  many 
fields  of  battle. 

That  night  the  regiment  passed  under  arms.  On  the  morn-  Thciiigh- 
ing  of  the  following  day,  the  twenty  first  of  August,  all  the  hills  ."acwihe 
round  Dunkeld  were  alive  with  bonnets  and  plaids.  Cannon's  nj',1]"g''o(i 
army  was  much  larger  than  that  whichDundee  had  commanded.  "'J/^.®/ 
More  than  a  thousand  horses  laden  with  baggage  accompanied 
his  march.  Both  the  horses  and  baggage  were  probably  part 
of  the  booty  of  Killiecrankie.  The  whole  number  of  High- 
landers was  estimated  by  those  who  saw  them  at  from  four  to 
five  thousand  men.  They  came  furiously  on.  The  outposts  of 
the  Cameronians  were  speedily  driven  in.  The  assailants  came 
pouring  on  every  side  into  the  streets.  The  church,  however, 
held  out  obstinately.  But  the  greater  part  of  the  regiment 
made  its  stand  behind  a  wall  which  surrounded  a  house  belong- 
ing to  the  Marquess  of  Athol.  This  wall,  which  had  two  or 
three  days  before  been  hastily  repaired  with  timber  and  loose 
stones,  the  soldiers  defended  desperately  with  musket,  pike, 
and  halbert.  Their  bullets  were  soon  spent;  but  some  of  the 
men  were  employed  in  cutting  lead  from  the  roof  of  the 
Marquess's  house  and  shaping  it  into  slugs.  Meanwhile  all  the 
neighbouring  houses  were  crowded  from  top  to  bottom  with 
Highlanders,  who  kept  up  a  galling  fire  from  the  windows. 
Cleland,  while  encouraging  his  men,  was  shot  dead.  The 
command  devolved  on  Major  Henderson.  In  another  minute 
Henderson  fell  pierced  with  three  mortal  wounds.  His  place 
was  supplied  by  Captain  Munro,  and  the  contest  went  on  with 
undiminished  fury.  A  party  of  the  Cameronians  sallied  forth, 
set  fire  to  the  houses  from  which  the  fatal  shots  had  come,  and 


CHAP,  turned  the  keys  in  the  doors.    In  one  single  dwelling  sixteen 



-  of  the  enemy  were  burnt  alive.  Those  who  were  in  the  fight 
described  it  as  a  terrible  initiation  for  recruits.  Half  the  town 
was  blazing;  and  with  the  incessant  roar  of  the  guns  were 
mingled  the  piercing  shrieks  of  wretches  perishing  in  the 
flames.  The  struggle  lasted  four  hours.  By  that  time  the 
Cameronians  were  reduced  nearly  to  their  last  flask  of  powder; 
but  their  spirit  never  flagged.  "The  enemy  will  soon  carry  the 
wall.  Be  it  so.  We  will  retreat  into  the  house :  we  will  defend 
it  to  the  last;  and,  if  they  force  their  way  into  it,  we  will  bum 
it  over  their  heads  and  our  own."  But,  while  they  were  revol- 
ving these  desperate  projects,  they  observed  that  the  fui-y  of  the 
assault  slackened.  Soon  the  Highlanders  began  to  fall  back: 
disorder  visibly  spread  among  them;  and  whole  bands  began 
to  march  off  to  the  hills.  It  was  in  vain  that  their  general 
ordered  them  to  return  to  the  attack.  Perseverance  was  not 
one  of  their  military  virtues.  The  Cameronians  meanwhile, 
with  shouts  of  defiance,  invited  Amalek  and  Moab  to  come 
back  and  to  try  another  chance  with  the  chosen  people.  But 
these  exhortations  had  as  little  efi"ect  as  those  of  Cannon.  In  a 
short  time  the  whole  Gaelic  army  was  in  full  retreat  towards 
Blair.  Then  the  drums  struck  up:  the  victorious  Puritans 
threw  their  caps  into  the  air,  raised,  with  one  voice,  a  psalm 
of  triumph  and  thanksgiving,  and  waved  their  colours,  colours 
which  were  on  that  day  unfurled  for  the  fii'st  time  in  the  face  of 
an  enemy,  but  which  have  since  been  proudly  borne  in  every 
quarter  of  the  world,  and  which  are  now  embellished  with  the 
Sphinx  and  the  Dragon,  emblems  of  brave  actions  achieved  in 
Egypt  and  in  China.* 

•  Exact  Narrative  of  the  Conflict  at  Dunkeld  between  the  Earl  of 
Angus's  Regiment  and  the  Kebels,  collected  from  several  Officers  of  that 
Regiment  vrho  were  Actors  in  or  Eyewitnesses  of  all  that's  here  narrated  in 
Reference  to  those  Actions;  Letter  of  Lieutenant  Blackader  to  bis  brother, 



The  Cameronians  had  good  reason  to  be  joyful  and  thank-    chap. 
ful;  for  they  had  finished  the  war.     In  the  rebel  camp  all  was 



discord  and  dejection.  The  Highlanders  blamed  Cannon:  Di«oia- 
Cannon  blamed  the  Highlanders;  and  the  host  which  had  been  ih^eVigh- 
the  terror  of  Scotland  melted  fast  away.  The  confederate  ^V 
chiefs  signed  an  association  by  which  they  declared  themselves 
faithful  subjects  of  King  James,  and  bound  themselves  to  meet 
again  at  a  future  time.  Having  gone  through  this  form,  —  for 
it  was  no  more,  —  they  depai-ted,  each  to  his  home.  Cannon 
and  his  Irishmen  retired  to  the  Isle  of  Mull.  The  Lowlanders 
who  had  followed  Dundee  to  the  mountains  shifted  for  them- 
selves as  they  best  could.  On  the  twenty  fourth  of  August, 
exactly  four  weeks  after  the  Gaelic  army  had  won  the  battle  of 
Killiecrankie,  that  army  ceased  to  exist.  It  ceased  to  exist, 
as  the  army  of  Montrose  had,  more  than  forty  years  earlier, 
ceased  to  exist,  not  in  consequence  of  any  great  blow  from 
without,  but  by  a  natural  dissolution,  the  effect  of  internal 
malformation.  All  the  fruits  of  victory  were  gathered  by  the 
vanquished.  The  Castle  of  Blair,  which  had  been  the  im- 
mediate object  of  the  contest,  opened  its  gates  to  Mackay;  and 
a  chain  of  militarj-  posts,  extending  northward  as  far  as  Inver- 
ness, protected  the  cultivators  of  the  plains  against  the  pre- 
dator}- inroads  of  the  mountaineers. 

During  the  autumn  the  government  was  much  more  annoyed  intrignej 

"  o  ^         of  Ihe 

by  the  Whigs  of  the  low  country,  than  by  the  Jacobites  of  the  ciub: 
hills.  The  Club,  which  had,  in  the  late  session  of  Parliament,  thf  low- 
attempted  to  turn  the  kingdom  into  an  oligarchical  republic, 
and  which  had  induced  the  Estates  to  refuse  supplies  and  to 
stop  the  administration  of  justice,  continued  to  sit  during  the 
recess,  and  harassed  the  ministers  of  the  Crown  by  systematic 
agitation.    The  organization  of  this  body,  contemptible  as  it 

dated  DunltclJ,  Au?.  21.  1689;   Faithful  ContendinKS  Displayed;   Minute  of 
the  Scotcli  Privy  Council  of  Aug.  28.,  quoted  by  Mr.  Burton. 


CHAP,  may  appear  to  the  generation  which  has  seen  the  Roman 
~j^—  Catholic  Association  and  the  League  against  the  Corn  Laws, 
was  then  thought  mar\'ellous  and  formidable.  The  leaders  of 
the  confederacy  boasted  that  they  would  force  the  King  to  do 
them  right.  They  got  up  petitions  and  addresses,  tried  to  in- 
flame the  populace  by  means  of  the  press  and  the  pulpit, 
employed  emissaries  among  the  soldiers,  and  talked  of  bringing 
up  a  large  body  of  Covenanters  from  the  west  to  overawe  the 
Privy  Council.  In  spite  of  every  artifice,  however,  the  ferment 
of  the  pubHc  mind  gradually  subsided.  The  Government,  after 
some  hesitation,  ventured  to  open  the  Courts  of  Justice  which 
the  Estates  had  closed.  The  Lords  of  Session  appointed  by  the 
King  took  their  seats;  and  Sir  James  Dah-ymple  presided.  The 
Club  attempted  to  induce  the  advocates  to  absent  themselves 
from  the  bar,  and  entertained  some  hope  that  the  mob  would 
pull  the  judges  from  the  bench.  But  it  speedily  became  clear 
that  there  was  much  more  likely  to  be  a  scarcity  of  fees  than  of 
la^vyersto  take  them:  the  common  people  of  Edinburgh  were 
well  pleased  to  see  agam  a  tribunal  associated  in  their  minds 
with  the  dignity  and  prosperity  of  their  city;  and  by  many  signs 
it  appeared  that  the  false  and  greedy  faction  which  had  com- 
manded a  majority  of  the  legislature  did  not  command  a  majo- 
rity of  the  nation.* 

•  The  history  of  Scotland  during  this  nntumn  will  be  best  studied  in 
the  Leven  and  Melville  Papers. 

WILLIAM   AM)    MAUr.  45 


T'SVENTY  FOUR  hours  before  the  war  in  Scotland  was  brought    f^^^^P' 
to  a  close  by  the  ilisconifiture  of  the  Celtic  army  at  Dunkekl,     itsa.  " 
the  Parliament  broke  up  at  Westminster.     The  Houses  had  Di'^p"ie» 
sate  ever  since  Januairy  -without  a  recess.    The  Commons,  who  English 
were  cooped  up  in  a  narrow  space,  had  suffered  severely  from  mem. 
heat  and  discomfort;  and  the  health  of  many  members  had 
given  way.     The  fruit  however  had  not  been  proportioned  to 
the  toil.     The  last  three  months  of  the  session  had  been  almost 
entirely  wasted  in  disputes,  which  have  left  no  trace  in  the 
Statute  Book.     The  ])rogres9  of  salutary  laws  had  been  im- 
peded, sometimes  by  bickerings  between  the  "\^^ligs  and  the 
Tories,  and  sometimes  by  bickerings  between  the  Lords  and 
the  Commons. 

The  Revolution  had  scarcely  been  accora]>lislied  when  it  ap- 
peared that  the  supporters  of  the  Exclusion  liiU  had  not  forgot- 
ten what  they  had  suffered  during  the  ascendency  of  their 
enemies,  and  were  bent  on  obtaining  both  reparation  and 
revenge.  Even  before  the  throne  was  filled,  the  Lords  aji- 
pointed  a  committee  to  examine  ijito  the  truth  of  the  frightful 
stories  which  had  been  circulated  concerning  the  death  of 
Essex.  The  committee,  which  consisted  of  zealous  ^Maigs, 
contimied  its  inquiries  till  all  reasonable  men  were  convinced 
that  he  had  fallen  by  his  own  hand,  and  till  his  wife,  his  bro- 
ther, and  his  most  intimate  friends  were  desirous  that  the  in- 
vestigation should  be   carried  no  further.*     Atonement  was 

•  See  the  Lords'  Journals  of  Fob.  6.  IfiS",  and  of  many  subsequent 
days;     Braddon'*   pamphlet,    entitled   the   Earl   of    Essex's   Memory   and 


CHAP,  made,  without  any  opposition  on  the  part  of  the  Tories,  to  the 
jggg'  memory  and  the  families  of  some  other  victims,  who  were 
The  at-  themselves  beyond  the  reach  of  human  power.  Soon  after  the 
Russell"  Convention  had  been  turned  into  a  Parliament,  a  bill  for 
reversed,  reversing  the  attainder  of  Lord  Russell  was  presented  to  the 
Peers,  was  speedily  passed  by  them,  was  sent  down  to  the 
Lower  House ,  and  was  welcomed  there  with  no  common  signs 
of  emotion.  Many  of  the  members  had  sate  in  that  very  cham- 
ber with  Russell.  He  had  long  exercised  there  an  influence 
resembling  the  influence  which,  within  the  memory  of  this 
generation,  belonged  to  the  upright  and  benevolent  Althorpe; 
an  influence  derived ,  not  from  superior  skill  in  debate  or  in  de- 
clamation, but  from  spotless  integrity,  from  plain  good  sense, 
and  from  that  frankness,  that  simplicity,  that  good  nature, 
which  are  singularly  graceful  and  winning  in  a  man  raised  by 
birth  and  fortune  high  above  his  fellows.  By  the  'Whigs  Rus- 
sell had  been  honoured  as  a  chief;  and  his  political  adversaries 
had  admitted  that,  when  he  was  not  misled  by  associates  less 
respectable  and  more  artful  than  himself,  he  was  as  honest  and 
kindhearted  a  gentleman  as  any  in  England.  The  manly  firm- 
ness and  Christian  meekness  with  which  he  had  met  death,  the 
desolation  of  his  noble  house,  the  misery  of  the  bereaved 
father,  the  blighted  prospects  of  the  orphan  children  ,*  above 
all,  the  union  of  womanly  tenderness  and  angelic  patience  in 

Honour  Vindicated,  1690;  and  the  London  Gazette*  of  July  31.  and 
Auguut  4.  and  7.  1600,  in  which  Lady  Essex  and  Burnet  publicly  contra- 
dicted Braddon. 

•  Whether  the  attainder  of  Lord  Russell  would,  if  unreversed,  have 
prevented  his  son  from  succeeding  to  the  earldom  of  Bedford  is  a  difficult 
question.  The  old  Earl  collected  the  opinions  of  the  greatest  lawyers  of 
the  age,  which  may  still  be  seen  among  the  archives  at  Woburn.  It  is 
remarkable  that  one  of  these  opinions  is  signed  by  Peniberton,  who  had 
presided  at  the  trial.  This  circumstance  seems  to  prove  that  the  family 
did  not  impute  to  him  any  injustice  or  cruelty;  and  in  truth  he  had  behaved 
as  well  as  any  jadge,  before  the  Revolution,  ever  behaved  on  a  similar  oo- 



her  who  had  been  dearest  to  the  brave  sufferer,  who  had  sate,  chap. 
with  the  pen  in  her  hand,  by  his  side  at  the  bar,  who  had- 
cheered  the  gloom  of  his  cell,  and  who,  on  his  last  day,  had 
shared  with  him  the  memorials  of  the  great  sacrifice,  had 
softened  the  hearts  of  many  who  were  little  in  the  habit  of 
pitying  an  opponent.  That  Russell  had  many  good  qualities, 
that  he  had  meant  well,  that  he  had  been  hardly  used,  was  now 
admitted  even  by  courtly  lawyers  who  had  assisted  in  shedding 
his  blood ,  and  by  courtly  divines  who  had  done  their  worst  to 
blacken  his  reputation.  WTien,  therefore,  the  parchment 
which  annulled  his  sentence  was  laid  on  the  table  of  that  as- 
sembly in  which,  eight  years  before,  his  face  and  his  voice  had 
been  so  well  known,  the  excitement  was  great.  One  old  AMiig 
member  tried  to  speak,  but  was  overcome  by  his  feelings. 
"I  cannot,"  he  said,  "name  my  Lord  Russell  without  disorder. 
It  is  enough  to  name  him.  I  am  not  able  to  say  more."  Many 
eyes  were  directed  towards  that  part  of  the  house  where  Finch 
sate.  The  highly  honourable  manner  in  which  he  had  quitted  a 
lucrative  office,  as  soon  as  he  had  found  that  he  could  not  keep 
it  without  supporting  the  dispensing  power,  and  the  con- 
spicuous part  which  he  had  borne  in  the  defence  of  the  Bishops, 
had  done  much  to  atone  for  his  faults.  Yet,  on  this  day,  it 
could  not  be  forgotten  that  he  had  strenuously  exerted  himself, 
as  counsel  for  the  Crown,  to  obtain  that  judgment  which  was 
now  to  be  solemnly  revoked.  He  rose,  and  attempted  to  de- 
feud  his  conduct:  but  neither  his  legal  acuteness,  nor  that 
fluent  and  sonorous  elocution  which  was  in  his  family  a  heredi- 
taiy  gift,  and  of  which  none  of  his  family  had  a  larger  share 
than  himself,  availed  him  on  this  occasion.  The  House  was  in 
no  humour  to  hear  him,  and  repeatedly  interrupted  him  by 
cries  of  "Order."  He  had  been  treated,  he  was  told,  with 
great  indulgence.  No  accusation  had  been  brought  against 
him.    "VVhy  then  should  he,  under  pretence  of  vindicating  him- 


CHAP,   self,    attempt    to    throw    dishonouraV)le    imputations    on    an 



illustrious  name,  and  to  apologize  for  a  judicial  murder?  He 
was  forced  to  sit  down,  after  declaring  that  he  meant  only  to 
clear  himself  from  the  charge  of  having  exceeded  the  limits  of 
his  professional  duty;  that  he  disclaimed  all  intention  of  at- 
tacking the  memory  of  Lord  Russell;  and  that  he  should 
sincerely  rejoice  at  the  reversing  of  the  attainder.  Before  the 
House  rose  the  bill  was  read  a  second  time,  and  would  have 
been  instantly  read  a  third  time  and  passed,  had  not  some  ad- 
ditions and  omissions  been  proposed,  which  would,  it  was 
thought,  make  the  reparation  more  complete.  The  amend- 
ments were  prepared  with  great  expedition:  the  Lords  agreed 
to  them ;  and  the  King  gladly  gave  his  assent.* 
other  at-  This  bill  was  soon  followed  by  three  other  bills  which  an- 
reversed.  nulled  three  wicked  and  infamous  judgments,  the  judg- 
ment against  Sidney,  the  judgment  against  Cornish,  and 
the  judgment  against  Alice  Lisle.** 
Case  of  Some  living  Whigs  obtained  without  difficulty  redress  for 

johii"on.  injuries  which  they  had  suffered  in  the  late  reign.  The  sentence 
of  Samuel  Johnson  was  taken  into  consideration  by  the  House 
of  Commons.  It  was  resolved  that  the  scoiu-ging  which  he  had 
undergone  was  cruel,  and  that  his  degradation  was  of  no  legal 
effect.  The  latter  proposition  admitted  of  no  dispute:  for  he 
had  been  degraded  by  the  prelates  who  had  been  appointed  to 
govern  the  diocese  of  London  during  Compton's  suspension. 
Compton  had  been  suspended  by  a  decree  of  the  High  Com- 
mission; and  the  decrees  of  the  High  Commission  were  uni- 
versally acknowledged  to  be  nullities.  Johnson  had  therefore 
been  stripped  of  his  robe  by  persons  who  had  no  jurisdiction 

»  Grey's  Debates,  March  168|. 
**  The  Acts  which  reversed  the  attainders  of  Kussoll ,  Sidney,  Cornish, 
and  .\lice  Lisle  were  private  Acta.     Only  the  titles  therefore  are  printed  in 
the  Statute  Book;  but  the  Acts  will  be  found  in  Howell's  Collection  of  State 



over  him.  The  Commons  requested  the  King  to  compensate  cnAp. 
the  sufferer  by  some  ecclesiastical  preferment.*  William,  how-  ■  '^'^ ' 
ever,  found  that  he  could  not,  without  great  inconvenience, 
grant  this  request.  For  Johnson,  though  brave,  honest  and 
religious,  had  always  been  rash,  mutinous  and  quarrelsome; 
and,  since  he  had  endured  for  his  opinions  a  martyrdom  more 
teiTible  than  death,  the  infirmities  of  his  temper  and  under- 
standing had  increased  to  such  a  degree  that  he  was  as  dis- 
agreeable to  Low  Churchmen  as  to  High  Churchmen.  Like 
too  many  other  men ,  who  are  not  to  be  turned  from  the  path  of 
right  by  pleasure,  by  lucre  or  by  danger,  he  mistook  the  im- 
pulses of  his  pride  and  resentment  for  the  monitions  of  con- 
science, and  deceived  himself  into  a  belief  that,  in  treating 
friends  and  foes  with  indiscriminate  insolence  and  asperity,  he 
was  merely  showing  his  Christian  faithfulness  and  courage. 
Burnet,  by  exhorting  him  to  patience  and  forgiveness  of  in- 
juries, made  him  a  mortal  enemy.  "Tell  His  Lordship,"  said 
the  inflexible  priest,  "to  mind  his  own  business,  and  to  let  me 
look  after  mine."**  It  soon  began  to  be  whispered  that  Johnson 
was  mad.  He  accused  Burnet  of  being  the  author  of  the  re- 
port, and  avenged  himself  by  Amting  libels  so  violent  that  they 
strongly  confirmed  the  imputation  which  they  were  meant  to 
refute.  The  King,  therefore,  thought  it  better  to  give  out  of 
his  own  revenue  a  liberal  compensation  for  the  wrongs  which 
the  Commons  had  brought  to  his  notice  than  to  place  an  eccen- 
tric and  irritable  man  in  a  situation  of  dignity  and  pirblic  trust, 
Johnson  was  gratified  with  a  present  of  a  thousand  pounds,  and 
a  pension  of  three  hundred  a  year  for  two  lives.  His  son  was 
also  provided  for  in  the  public  sers-ice.*** 

"  Commons'  Jonrnalg,  Juno  24.  1680. 
••  Johnson  tells  this   story  himself  in  his  strange  pamphlet  entitled. 
Notes  upon  the  Phoenix  Edition  of  tho  Pastoral  Letter,  1694. 

•••  Some  Memorials  of  tho  Rovorond  Samuel  Johnson,  prefixed  to  the 
folio  edition  of  his  works,  1710. 

Macaulwj,  Ilislory.  V.  4 


Case  of 



.n-r.        While  the  Commons  were  considering  the  case  of  Johnson, 
^^'^-  -  the  Lords  were  scrutinising  with  severity  the  proceedings  which 
Jsel't    had ,  in  the  late  reign ,  been  instituted  against  one  of  their  o^vn 
fifjr"    order,  the  Earl  of  Devonshire.    The  judges  who  had  passed 
sentence  on  him  were  strictly  interrogated;  and  a  resolution 
was  passed  declaring  that  in  his  case  the  privQeges  of  the 
peerage  had  been  infringed,    and  that  the  Court  of  King's 
Bench,  in  punishing  a  hasty  blow  by  a  fine  of  thirty  thousand 
pounds ,  had  violated  common  justice  and  the  Great  Charter.* 
Case  of         In  the  cases  which  have  been  mentioned,  all  parties  seem  to 
have  agreed  in  thinking  that  some  public  reparation  was  due. 
But  the  fiercest  passions  both  of  Whigs  and  Tories  were  soon 
roused  by  the  noisy  claims  of  a  wretch  whose  sufferings,  great 
as  they  might  seem,  had  been  trifling  when  compared  with  his 
crimes.     Oates  had  come  back,  like  a  ghost  from  the  place  of 
punishment,  to  haunt  the  spots  which  had  been  polluted  by 
his  guilt.     The  three  years  and  a  half  which  followed  his 
scourging  he  had  passed  in  one  of  the  ceUs  of  Newgate,  except 
when  on  certain  days,  the  anniversaries  of  his  peijuries,  he 
had  been  brought  forth  and  set  on  the  pillory.    He  was  still, 
however,  regarded  by  many  fanatics  as  a  martyr;  and  it  was 
said  that  they  were  able  so  far  to  corrupt  his  keepers  that,  in 
spite  of  positive  orders  from  the  government,   his  sufferings 
were  mitigated  by  many  indulgences.     While  offenders,  who, 
compared  with  him,  were  innocent,  grew  lean  on  the  prison 
allowance,  his  cheer  was  mended  by  turkeys  and  chines,  capons 
and  sucking  pigs,  venison  pasties  and  hampers  of  claret,  the 
offerings  of  zealous  Protestants.**    When  James  had  fled  from 
Whitehall,  and  when  London  was  in  confusion,  it  was  moved, 
in  the  council  of  Lords  which  had  provisionaUy  assumed  the 

•  Lords'  Jonrnals ,  May  15.  1689. 
••  North's  Examen,  224.    North's  evidence  Is  conflrmed  by  several 
contemporary  squibs  in  prose  and  verse.    See  also  the  eixciv  ^QOioXolYW, 

direction  of  affairs,  that  Oates  should  be  set  at  liberty.     The    chap 

motion  was  rejected:*  but  the  gaolers,  not  knowing  whom  to - 
obey  in  that  time  of  anarchy,  and  desiring  to  conciliate  a  man 
who  had  once  been,  and  might  perhaps  again  be,  a  terrible 
enemy,  allowed  their  prisoner  to  go  freely  about  the  town.** 
His  uneven  legs  and  his  hideous  face,  made  more  hideous  by 
the  shearing  which  his  ears  had  undergone,  were  now  again 
seen  every  day  in  Westminster  Hall  and  the  Court  of  Re- 
quests.*** He  fastened  himself  on  his  old  patrons ,  and,  in  that 
drawl  which  he  affected  as  a  mark  of  gentility,  gave  them  the 
history  of  his  wrongs  and  of  his  hopes.  It  was  impossible ,  he 
said,  that  now,  when  the  good  cause  was  triumphant,  the  dis- 
coverer of  the  plot  could  be  overlooked.  "Charles  gave 
me  nine  hundred  pounds  a  year.  Sure  William  will  give  me 

In  a  few  weeks  he  brought  his  sentence  before  the  House  of 
Lords  by  a  writ  of  error.  This  is  a  species  of  appeal  which 
raises  no  question  of  fact.  The  Lords,  while  sitting  judicially 
on  the  writ  of  error,  were  not  competent  to  examine  whether 
the  verdict  which  pronounced  Oates  guilty  was  or  was  not 
according  to  the  evidence.  All  that  they  had  to  consider  was 
whether,  the  verdict  being  supposed  to  be  according  to  the 
evidence,  the  judgment  was  legal.  But  it  would  have  been 
difficult  even  for  a  tribunal  composed  of  veteran  magistrates, 
and  was  almost  impossible  for  an  assembly  of  noblemen  who 

•  Halifax  MS.  in  the  British  Museum. 
••  Epistle  Dedicatory  to  Oates's  ilxwv  paaiXixrj. 
•••  In  a  ballad  of  the  time  are  the  foUowinj^  lines: 

"  Come  listen ,  ye  Whigs ,  to  my  pitiful  moan, 
All  you  that  have  ears,  when  the  Doctor  has  none." 

These  lines  must  hare  been  in  Mason's  head  when  he  wrote  the  conplet  — 
"Witness,  ye  Hills,  ye  Johnsons,  Scots,  Shebbeares; 
Hark  to  my  call:  for  some  of  you  have  ears.'' 
+  North's  Examen,  224.  254.     North  says  "six  hundred  a  year."    Bnt 
I  have  taken  the  larger  sum  from  the  impudent  petition  which  Oates  ad- 
dressed to  the  Commons,  July  'i5.  1689.     See  the  Journals. 






CHAP,  were  all  strongly  biassed  on  one  side  or  on  the  other,  and 
■  among  whom  there  was  at  that  time  not  a  single  person  whose 
mind  had  been  disciplined  by  the  study  of  jurisprudence,  to 
look  steadily  at  the  mere  point  of  law,  abstracted  from  the  spe- 
cial circumstances  of  the  case.  In  the  view  of  one  party,  a  party 
which  even  among  the  Whig  peers  was  probably  a  minority,  the 
appellant  was  a  man  who  had  rendered  inestimable  services  to 
the  cause  of  liberty  and  religion ,  and  who  had  been  requited 
by  long  confinement,  by  degrading  exposure,  and  by  torture 
not  to  be  thought  of  vdthout  a  shudder.  The  majority  of  the 
House  more  justly  regarded  hira  as  the  falsest,  the  most 
malignant  and  the  most  impudent  being  that  had  ever  disgraced 
the  human  fonn.  The  sight  of  that  brazen  forehead,  the 
accents  of  that  lying  tongue ,  deprived  them  of  all  mastery  over 
themselves.  Many  of  them  doubtless  remembered  with  shame 
and  remorse  that  they  had  been  his  dupes,  and  that,  on  the 
very  last  occasion  on  which  he  had  stood  before  them ,  he  had 
by  perjury  induced  them  to  shed  the  blood  of  one  of  their  own 
illustrious  order.  It  was  not  to  be  expected  that  a  crowd  of 
gentlemen  under  the  influence  of  feelings  like  these  would  act 
with  the  cold  impartiality  of  a  court  of  justice.  Before  they  came 
to  any  decision  on  the  legal  question  which  Titus  had  brought 
before  them,  they  picked  a  succession  of  quarrels  with  him. 
He  had  published  a  paper  magnifying  his  merits  and  his  suffer- 
ings. The  Lords  found  out  some  pretence  for  calling  this 
publication  a  breach  of  privilege,  and  sent  him  to  the  Mar- 
shalsea.  He  petitioned  to  be  released;  but  an  objection  was 
raised  to  his  petition.  He  had  described  himself  as  a  Doctor  of 
Divinity;  and  their  lordships  refused  to  acknowledge  him  as 
such.  He  was  brought  to  their  bar,  and  asked  M'here  he  had 
graduated.  He  answered,  "At  the  university  of  Salamanca." 
This  was  no  new  instance  of  his  mendacity  and  efirontery.  His 
Salamanca  degree  had  been,  during  many  years,  a  favourite 

WXLLXAH  AUD   M<i.Ul'.  53 

theme  of  all  the  Tory  satirists  from  Dr}'den  downwards;  and    chap. 
even  on  the  Continent  the  Salamanca  Doctor  was  a  nickname  in 


ordinary  use.*  The  Lords,  in  their  hatred  of  Gates,  so  far 
forgot  their  own  dignity  as  to  treat  this  ridiculous  matter 
seriously.  Tliey  ordered  him  to  efface  from  his  petition  the 
words,  "iJoctor  of  Divinity."  He  replied  that  he  could 
not  in  conscience  do  it;  and  he  was  accordingly  sent  back  to 
gaol.  ** 

These  preliminary  proceedings  indicated  not  obscurely  what 
the  fate  of  the  writ  of  error  would  be.  The  counsel  for  Gates 
had  been  heard.  No  counsel  appeared  against  him.  Tlio 
Judges  were  required  to  give  their  opinions.  Nine  of  them  were 
in  attendance;  and  among  the  nine  were  the  Chiefs  of  the  three 
Courts  of  Common  Law.  The  unanimous  answer  of  these  grave, 
learned  and  upright  niagisti'ates  was  that  the  Court  of  King's 
Bench  was  not  competent  to  degrade  a  priest  from  his  sacred 
office,  or  to  pass  a  sentence  of  perpetual  imprisonment;  and 
that  therefore  the  judgment  against  Gates  was  contrary  to  law, 
and  ought  to  be  reversed.  The  Lords  should  undoubtedly  have 
considered  themselves  as  bound  by  this  opinion.  That  they 
knew  Gates  to  be  the  worst  of  men  was  nothing  to  the  purpose. 
To  them,  sitting  as  a  court  of  justice,  he  ought  to  have  been 
merely  a  John  of  Styles  or  a  John  of  Nokes.  But  their  indigna- 
tion was  violently  excited.  Their  habits  were  not  those  which 
fit  men  for  the  discharge  of  judicial  duties.  The  debate  turned 
almost  entirely  on  matters  to  which  no  allusion  ought  to  have 
been  made.  Not  a  single  peer  ventured  to  affirm  that  the  judg- 
ment was  legal:  but  much  was  said  about  the  odious  character 
of  the  appellant,  about  the  impudent  accusation  which  he  had 
brought  against  Catharine  of  Braganza,  and  about  the  evil  con- 

•  Van  Citters,  in  his  dcspatchc*  to  tho  States  General,  use*  this  nick- 
name quite  gravely. 

••  Lords' Journals,  May  80.  1689. 



CHAP,  sequences  which  might  follow  if  so  bad  a  man  were  capable  of 
■  being  a  witness.  "There  is  only  one  way,"  said  the  Lord  Pre- 
sident, "in  which  I  can  consent  to  reverse  the  fellow's  sentence. 
He  has  been  whipped  from  Aldgate  to  Tyburn.  He  ought  to  be 
whipped  from  Tyburn  back  to  Aldgate."  The  question  was  put. 
Twenty  three  peers  voted  for  reversing  the  judgment;  thirty 
five  for  affirming  it.* 

This  decision  produced  a  great  sensation,  and  not  without 
reason.  A  question  was  now  raised  which  might  justly  excite 
the  anxiety  of  every  man  in  the  kingdom.  That  question  was 
whether  the  highest  tribunal,  the  tribimal  on  which,  in  the 
last  resort,  depended  the  most  precious  interests  of  every 
English  subject,  was  at  liberty  to  decide  judicial  questions  on 
other  than  judicial  grounds ,  and  to  withhold  fi-om  a  suitor  what 
was  admitted  to  be  his  legal  right,  on  account  of  the  depravity 
of  his  moral  character.  That  the  supreme  Court  of  Appeal 
ought  not  to  be  suffered  to  exercise  arbitrary  power,  under  the 
forms  of  ordinai-y  justice ,  was  strongly  felt  by  the  ablest  men  in 
the  House  of  Commons,  and  by  none  more  strongly  than  by 
Somers.  With  him,  and  with  those  who  reasoned  like  him, 
were,  on  this  occasion,  allied  many  weak  and  hot-headed 
zealots  who  still  regarded  Gates  as  a  public  benefactor,  and 
who  imagined  that  to  question  the  existence  ofthe  Popish  plot 
was  to  question  the  truth  of  the  Protestant  religion.  On  the 
very  morning  after  the  decision  of  the  Peers  had  been  pro- 
nounced, keen  refiections  were  thrown,  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, on  the  justice  of  their  lordships.  Three  days  later,  the 
subject  was  brought  forward  by  a  Whig  Privy  Councillor,  Sir 
Robert  Howard,  member  for  Castle  Rising.  He  was  one  ofthe 
Berkshire  branch  of  his  noble  family,  a  branch  which  enjoyed, 
in  that  age,  the  xmenviable  distinction  of  being  wonderfully 

•  Lords'  Journals,  May  31.  1689;  Commons'  Journals,  Aug.  2.;  North's 
Examen,  224;  Narcissus  Luttrell's  Diary. 


fertile  of  bad  rhymers.     The  poetry  of  the  Berkshire  Howards    chap 

was  the  jest  of  three  generations  of  satirists.  The  mirth  began  • 
with  the  first  representation  of  the  Rehearsal,  and  continued 
down  to  the  last  edition  of  the  Dunciad.*  But  Sir  Robert,  in 
spite  of  his  bad  verses,  and  of  some  foibles  and  vanities  which 
had  caused  him  to  be  brought  on  the  stage  under  the  name  of 
Sir  Positive  Atall,  had  in  parliament  the  weight  which  a  stanch 
party  man,  of  ample  fortune,  of  illustrious  name,  of  ready 
utterance,  and  of  resolute  spii-it,  can  scarcely  fail  to  possess.** 
WTien  lie  rose  to  call  the  attention  of  the  Commons  to  the  case 
of  Gates,  some  Tories,  animated  by  the  same  passions  which 
had  prevailed  in  the  other  House,  received  him  with  loud  hisses. 
In  spite  of  this  most  unparliamentary  insult,  he  persevered;  and 
it  soon  appeared  that  the  majority  was  with  him.  Some  orators 
extolled  the  patriotism  and  courage  of  Oates;  others  dwelt  much 
on  a  prevailing  rumour,  that  the  solicitors  who  were  employed 
against  him  on  behalf  of  the  Crown  had  distributed  large  sums 
of  money  among  the  jurjTnen.  These  were  topics  on  which 
there  was  much  difference  of  opinion.  But  that  the  sentence 
was  illegal  was  a  proposition  which  admitted  of  no  dispute. 
The  most  eminent  lawyers  in  the  House  of  Commons  declared 
that,  on  this  point,  they  entirely  concurred  in  the  opinion  given 
by  the  Judges  in  the  House  of  Lords.  Those  who  had  hissed 
when  the  subject  was  introduced,  were  so  effectually  cowed 
that  they  did  not  venture  to  demand  a  division;  and  a  bill  an- 
nulling the  sentence  was  brought  in,  without  any  opposition.*** 

•  Sir  Robert  waa  the  original  hero  of  the  Rehearsal,  and  was  called 
Bllboa.     In  the  remodelled  Dunciad,  Pope  inserted  the  lines  — 

"And  highborn  Howard,  more  mfljestic  sire. 
With  Fool  of  Quality  completes  the  quire." 
Pope'a  highborn  Howard  waa  Edward  Howard,  the  author  of  the  British 

••  Key  to  the  Rehearsal;  Shadwell's  Sullen  Lovera;  Pepys,  May  5.  8. 
1668;  Evelyn,  Feb.  16.  168J. 

•••  Grey's  Debates  and  Commons'  Journals,  June  4.  and  11.  1686. 





CHAP.         The  Lords  were  in  an  embarrassing  situation.    To  retract 


-  was  not  pleasant.  To  engage  in  a  contest  with  theLower House, 
on  a  question  on  which  that  House  was  clearly  in  the  right,  and 
was  backed  at  once  by  the  opinions  of  the  sages  of  the  laAV,  and 
by  the  passions  of  the  populace ,  might  be  dangerous.  It  was 
thought  expedient  to  take  a  middle  course.  An  address  was 
presented  to  the  King,  requesting  him  to  pardon  Gates.  *  But 
this  concession  only  made  bad  worse.  Titus  had,  like 
every  other  human  being,  a  right  to  justice:  but  he  was  not  a 
proper  object  of  mercy.  If  the  judgment  against  him  was  illegal, 
it  ought  to  have  been  reversed.  If  it  was  legal,  there  was  no 
ground  for  remitting  any  part  of  it.  The  Commons,  very  pro- 
perly, persisted,  passed  their  bill ,  and  sent  it  up  to  the  Peers. 
Of  this  bUl  the  only  objectionable  part  was  the  preamble,  which 
asserted,  not  only  that  the  judgment  was  illegal,  a  proposition 
which  appeared  on  the  face  of  the  record  to  be  true ,  but  also 
that  the  verdict  was  coiTupt,  a  proposition  which,  whether  true 
or  false ,  was  not  proved  by  any  evidence  at  all. 

The  Lords  were  in  a  great  strait.  They  knew  that  they  were 
in  the  wrong.  Yet  they  were  determined  not  to  proclaim ,  in 
their  legislative  capacity,  that  they  had,  in  their  judicial  capa- 
city, been  guilty  of  injustice.  They  again  tried  a  middle  course. 
The  preamble  was  softened  down:  a  clause  was  added  which 
provided  that  Gates  should  still  remain  incapable  of  being  a 
witness ;  and  the  bill  thus  altered  was  returned  to  the  Commons. 

The  Commons  were  not  satisfied.  They  rejected  the  amend- 
ments ,  and  demanded  a  free  conference.  Two  eminent  Tories, 
Rochester  and  Nottingham,  took  their  seats  in  the  Painted 
Chamber  as  managers  for  the  Lords.  With  them  was  joined 
Burnet,  whose  well  known  hatred  of  Popery  was  likely  to  give 
weight  to  what  he  might  say  on  such  an  occasion.    Somers  was 

*  Lords' Journals,  June  C.  1089. 



the  Chief  orator  on  the  other  side;   and  to  his  pen  we  owe    chap. 
a  singularly  lucid  and  interesting  abstract  of  the  debate.  -  ^'^' 

The  Lords  frankly  owned  that  the  judgment  of  the  Court  of 
King's  Bench  could  not  be  defended.  They  knew  it  to  be  ille- 
gal, and  had  knoAvn  it  to  be  so  even  when  they  affinned  it.  But 
they  had  acted  for  the  best.  They  accused  Gates  of  bringing 
an  impudently  false  accusation  against  Queen  Catharine:  they 
mentioned  other  instances  of  his  villany;  and  they  asked 
whether  such  a  man  ought  still  to  be  capable  of  giving  testimony 
in  a  court  of  justice.  The  only  excuse  which,  in  their  opinion, 
could  be  made  for  him  was ,  that  he  was  insane ;  and  in  truth, 
the  incredible  insolence  and  absurdity  of  his  behaviour  when  he 
was  last  before  them  seemed  to  warrant  the  belief  that  his  brain 
had  been  tui-ned ,  and  that  he  was  not  to  be  trusted  with  the 
lives  of  other  men.  The  Lords  could  not  therefore  degrade 
themselves  by  expressly  rescinding  what  they  had  done;  nor 
could  they  consent  to  pronounce  the  verdict  corrupt  on  no 
better  evidence  than  common  report. 

The  reply  was  complete  and  triumj)hant.  "  Gates  is  now 
the  smallest  part  of  the  question.  He  has,  Your  Lordships  say, 
falsely  accused  the  Queen  Dowager  and  other  innocent  persons. 
13e  it  so.  This  bill  gives  him  no  indemnity.  We  are  quite  will- 
ing that,  if  he  is  guilty,  he  shall  be  punished.  But  for  him, 
and  for  all  Englishmen,  we  demand  that  punishment  shall  be 
regulated  by  law ,  and  not  by  the  arbitrary  discretion  of  any  tri- 
bunal. We  demand  that,  when  a  writ  of  error  is  before  Your 
Lordships,  you  shall  give  judgment  on  it  according  to  the 
known  customs  and  statutes  of  the  realm.  We  deny  that  you 
have  any  right,  on  such  occasions,  to  take  into  consideration 
the  moral  character  of  a  plaintiff  or  the  political  effect  of  a  deci- 
sion. It  is  acknowledged  by  yourselves  that  yooi  have,  merely 
because  you  thought  ill  of  this  man ,  affirmed  a  judgment  which 
you  knew  to  be  illegal.     Against  this  assumption  of  arbitrary 


CHAP,  power  the  Commons  protest;  and  they  hope  that  you  will  now 
-  ^Jg^'  redeem  what  you  must  feel  to  be  an  error.  Your  Lordships  in- 
timate a  suspicion  that  Gates  is  mad.  That  a  man  is  mad  may 
be  a  very  good  reason  for  not  punishing  him  at  all.  But  how  it 
can  be  a  reason  for  inflicting  on  him  a  punishment  which  would 
be  illegal  even  if  he  were  sane,  the  Commons  do  not  compre- 
hend. Yoiu-  Lordships  think  that  you  should  not  be  justified  in 
calling  a  verdict  corrupt  which  has  not  been  legally  proved  to 
be  so.  Suffer  us  to  remind  you  that  you  have  two  distinct  func- 
tions to  perform.  You  are  judges;  and  you  are  legislators. 
When  you  judge,  your  duty  is  strictly  to  follow  the  law.  When 
you  legislate ,  you  may  properly  take  facts  from  common  fame. 
You  invert  this  rule.  You  are  lax  in  the  wrong  place,  and 
scrupulous  in  the  wrong  place.  As  judges,  you  break  through 
the  law  for  the  sake  of  a  supposed  convenience.  As  legislators, 
you  will  not  admit  any  fact  without  such  technical  proof  as  it  is 
rarely  possible  for  legislators  to  obtain."* 

This  reasoning  was  not  and  could  not  be  answered.  The 
Commons  were  evidently  flushed  with  their  victory  in  the  argu- 
ment, and  proud  of  the  appearance  which  Somers  had  made  in 
the  Painted  Chamber.  They  particularly  charged  him  to  see 
that  the  report  which  he  had  made  of  the  conference  was  ac- 
curately entered  in  the  Journals.  The  Lords  very  wisely  ab- 
stained from  inserting  in  their  records  an  account  of  a  debate  in 
which  they  had  been  so  signally  discomfited.  But,  though  con- 
scious of  their  fault  and  ashamed  of  it,  they  could  not  be 
brought  to  do  public  penance  by  owning,  in  the  preamble  of  the 
Act,  that  they  had  been  guilty  of  injustice.  The  minority  was, 
however,  strong.    The  resolution  to  adhere  was  carried  by  only 

•   Commons'  Journals,    Ang.  2.    1689;    Dutch    Ambassadors    Extra- 
Julr  30. 

ordinary  to  the  States  General,  —      - 

Wltl.IAM    AND   MAKT.  59 

twelve  votes,  of  which  ten  were  proxies.*  Twenty  one  Peers  chap 
protested.  The  bill  dropped.  Two  Masters  in  Chancery  were  -^ 
sent  to  announce  to  the  Commons  the  final  resolution  of  the 
Peers.  The  Commons  thought  this  proceeding  unjustifiable  in 
substance  and  uncourteous  in  form.  They  determined  to  re- 
monstrate; and  Somers  drew  up  an  excellent  manifesto,  in 
which  the  vile  name  of  Gates  was  scarcely  mentioned,  and  in 
which  the  Upper  House  was  with  great  earnestness  and  gravity 
exhorted  to  treat  judicial  questions  judicially,  and  not,  under 
pretence  of  administering  law,  to  make  law.**  The  wretched 
man,  who  had  now  a  second  time  thrown  the  political  world 
into  confusion ,  received  a  pardon,  and  was  set  at  liberty.  His 
friends  in  the  Lower  House  moved  an  address  to  the  Throne, 
requesting  that  a  pension  sufficient  for  his  support  might  be 
granted  to  him.***  He  was  consequently  allowed  about  three 
hundred  a  year,  a  sum  which  he  thought  unworthy  of  his  ac- 
ceptance, and  which  he  took  with  the  savage  snarl  of  dis- 
appointed greediness. 

From  the  dispute  about  Gates  sprang  another  dispute,  which  ^ii^i^of 
might  have  produced  very  serious  consequences.  The  instru- 
ment which  had  declared  "William  and  Mary  King  and  Queen 
was  a  revolutionary  instrument.  It  had  been  drawn  up  by  an 
assembly  unknown  to  the  ordinary  law,  and  had  never  received 
the  royal  sanction.  It  was  evidently  desirable  that  this  great 
contract  between  the  governors  and  the  governed,  this  titledeed 
by  which  the  King  held  his  throne  and  the  people  their  liberties, 
should  be  put  into  a  strictly  regular  form.  The  Declaration  of 
Rights  was  therefore  turned  into  a  Bill  of  Rights ;  and  the  Bill 
of  Rights  speedily  passed  the  Commons;  but  in  the  Lords  diffi- 
culties arose. 

•  Lords'  Journal*,  July  30.  1689;  Narcissus  LnttreU'*  Diary;  Claren- 
don's Diary,  July  31.  1869. 

••  See  the  Commoni' Journals  of  July  81.  and  August  13.  1689. 
*■*  Commotu' Journals,  Aug.  20. 



CHAP.  The  Declaration  had  settled  the  crown ,  first  on  William  and 
^'^'  Mary  jointly,  then  on  the  survivor  of  the  two,  then  on  Mary's 
posterity,  then  on  Anne  and  her  posterity,  and,  lastly,  on  the 
posterity  of  William  by  any  other  wife  than  Mary.  The  Bill  had 
been  dravra  in  exact  conformity  with  the  Declaration.  Who 
was  to  succeed  if  Mary,  Anne,  and  William  should  all  die  with- 
out posterity,  was  left  in  uncertainty.  Yet  the  event  for  which 
no  provision  was  made  was  far  from  improbable.  Indeed  it 
really  came  to  pass.  William  had  never  had  a  child.  Anne  had 
repeatedly  been  a  mother,  but  had  no  child  living.  It  would 
not  be  very  strange  if,  in  a  few  months,  disease,  war,  or  treason 
should  remove  all  those  who  stood  in  the  entail.  In  what  state 
would  the  country  then  be  left?  To  whom  would  allegiance  be 
due?  The  bill  indeed  contained  a  clause  which  excluded 
Papists  from  the  throne.  But  would  such  a  clause  supply  the 
place  of  a  clause  designating  the  successor  byname?  What  if 
the  next  heir  should  be  a  prince  of  the  House  of  Savoy  not  three 
months  old?  It  would  be  absurd  to  call  such  an  infant  a  Papist, 
Was  he  then  to  be  proclaimed  King?  Or  was  the  crown  to  be 
in  abeyance  till  he  came  to  an  age  at  which  he  might  be  capable 
of  choosing  a  religion?  Might  not  the  most  honest  and  the 
most  intelligent  men  be  in  doubt  whether  they  ought  to  regard 
him  as  their  Sovereign?  And  to  whom  could  they  look  for  a 
solution  of  this  doubt?  Parliament  there  would  be  none:  for 
the  Parliament  would  expire  with  the  prince  who  had  convoked 
it.  There  would  be  mere  anarchy,  anarchy  which  might  end  in 
the  destruction  of  the  monarchy,  or  in  the  destruction  of  public 
liberty.  For  these  weighty  reasons,  Burnet,  at  William's  sug- 
gestion, proposed  in  the  House  of  Lords  that  the  crown  should, 
failing  heirs  of  His  Majesty's  body,  be  entailed  on  an  undoubted 
Protestant,  Sophia,  Duchess  of  Brunswick  Lunenburg,  grand- 
daughter of  James  the  First,  and  daughter  of  Elizabeth,  Queen 
of  Bohemia. 


The  Lords  unanimously  assented  to  this  amendment:  but    crap 


the  Commons  unanimously  rejected  it.  The  cause  of  the  - 
rejection  no  contemporary  wTiter  has  satisfactorily  explained. 
One  Whig  historian  talks  of  the  machinations  of  the  repub- 
licans, another  of  the  machinations  of  the  Jacobites.  But  it 
is  quite  certain  that  four  fifths  of  the  representatives  of  the 
people  were  neither  Jacobites  nor  republicans.  Yet  not  a 
single  voice  was  raised  in  the  Lower  House  in  favour  of  the 
clause  which  in  the  Upper  House  had  been  carried  by  acclama- 
tion.* The  most  probable  explanation  seems  to  be  that  the 
gross  injustice  which  had  been  committed  in  the  case  of  Gates 
had  irritated  the  Commons  to  such  a  degree  that  they  were  glad 
of  an  opportunity  to  quaiTel  with  the  Peers.  A  conference  was 
held.  Neither  assembly  would  give  way.  "While  the  dispute 
was  hottest,  an  event  took  place  which,  it  might  have  been 
thought,  would  have  restored  hamiony.  Anne  gave  birth  to 
a  son.  The  child  was  baptized  at  Hampton  Court  with  great 
pomp,  and  with  many  signs  of  public  joy.  William  was  one  of 
the  sponsors.  The  other  was  the  accomplished  Dorset,  whose 
roof  had  given  shelter  to  the  Princess  in  her  distress.  The 
King  bestowed  his  own  name  on  his  godson,  and  announced  to 
the  splendid  circle  assembled  round  the  font  that  the  little 
William  was  henceforth  to  be  called  Duke  of  Gloucester.**  The 
birth  of  this  child  had  greatly  diminished  the  risk  against  which 
the  Lords  had  thought  it  necessary  to  guard.  They  might 
therefore  have  retracted  with  a  good  grace.  But  their  pride 
had  been  wounded  by  the  severity  with  which  their  decision  on 

"  Oldmixon  nccasos  tho  Jacobites,  Burnot  flio  republicans.  Thoufrli 
nurnot  took  a  prominent  part  i-n  the  discussion  of  this  question,  his  account 
of  what  passed  is  grossly  inaccurate.  He  gays  that  tho  clause  was  warmly 
debated  in  the  Commons,  and  that  Hampden  spoke  strongly  for  it.  But  we 
learn  from  the  Journals  (June  19.  1C89)  that  It  was  rejected  nemine  contrn- 
dicente.  The  Dutch  Ambassadors  describe  it  as  "cen  propositie  'twelck 
gcen  ingrcssie  schynt  to  sullen  vindcn." 

••  London  Gazette,  Aug.  1.  1689;  Narcissus  Luttrell's  Diary. 



CHAP.  Oates's  writ  of  error  had  been  censured  in  the  Painted  Chamber. 
-  ^'g'  ■  They  had  been  plainly  told  across  the  table  that  they  were 
unjust  judges;  and  the  imputation  was  not  the  less  irritating 
because  they  were  conscious  that  it  was  deserved.    They  re- 
fused to  make  any  concession;    and  the  Bill  of  Rights  was 
suffered  to  drop.* 
Disputes        But  the  most  exciting  question  of  this  long  and  stormy 
Bill  of  In-  session  was,  what  punishment  should  be  inflicted  on  those  men 
demniiy.  ^j^^  ^^^^  during  the  interval  between  the  dissolution  of  the 
Oxford  Parliament  and  the  Revolution,  been  the  advisers  or 
the  tools  of  Charles  and  James.    It  was  happy  for  England  that, 
at  this  crisis,  a  prince  who  belonged  to  neither  of  her  factions, 
who  loved  neither,  who  hated  neither,  and  who,  for  the  ac- 
complishment of  a  great  design,  wished  to  make  use  of  both, 
was  the  moderator  between  them. 

The  two  parties  were  now  in  a  position  closely  resembling 
that  in  which  they  had  been  twenty  eight  years  before.  The 
party  indeed  which  had  then  been  undermost  was  now  up- 
permost: but  the  analogy  between  the  situations  is  one  of  the 
most  perfect  that  can  be  found  in  history.  Both  the  Restora- 
tion and  the  Revolution  were  accomplished  by  coalitions.  At 
the  Restoration,  those  politicians  who  were  peculiarly  zealous 
for  liberty  assisted  to  reestablish  monarchy :  at  the  Revolution 
those  politicians  who  were  peculiarly  zealous  for  monarchy 
assisted  to  vindicate  liberty.  The  Cavalier  would,  at  the 
former  conjuncture,  have  been  able  to  effect  nothing  without 
the  help  of  Puritans  who  had  fought  for  the  Covenant;  nor 
woxild  the  Whig,  at  the  latter  conjuncture,  have  offered  a  suc- 
cessful resistance  to  arbitrary  power,  had  he  not  been  backed 
by  men  who  had  a  very  short  time  before  condemned  resistance 
to  arbitrary  power  as  a  deadly  sin.     Conspicuous  among  those 

»  The  history  of  this  Blli  may  be  traced  in  the  Journals  of  the  two 
Houies,  and  in  Grey's  Debates. 



by  whom,  in  1660,  the  royal  family  was  brought  back,  were  chap. 
Hollis,  who  had  in  the  days  of  the  tpanny  of  Charles  the  First - 
held  down  the  Speaker  in  the  chair  by  main  force,  while  Black 
Hod  knocked  for  admission  in  vain;  Ingoldsby,  whose  name 
was  subscribed  to  the  memorable  death  warrant;  and  Prynne, 
whose  ears  Laud  had  cut  off,  and  who,  in  return,  had  borne 
the  chief  part  in  cutting  off  Laud's  head.  Among  the  seven 
who,  in  1688,  signed  the  invitation  to  "William,  were  Compton, 
who  had  long  enforced  the  duty  of  obeying  Nero;  Danby,  who 
had  been  impeached  for  endeavouring  to  establish  military 
despotism;  and  Lumley,  whose  bloodhounds  had  tracked 
Monmouth  to  that  sad  last  hiding  place  among  the  fern.  Both 
in  1660  and  in  1688,  while  the  fate  of  the  nation  still  hung  in 
the  balance,  forgiveness  was  exchanged  between  the  hostile 
factions.  On  both  occasions  the  reconciliation,  which  had 
seemed  to  be  cordial  in  the  hour  of  danger,  proved  false  and 
hollow  in  the  hour  of  triumph.  As  soon  as  Charles  the  Second 
was  at  "UHaitehall,  the  Cavalier  forgot  the  good  service  recently 
done  by  the  Presbj-terians ,  and  remembered  only  their  old 
offences.  As  soon  as  William  was  King,  too  many  of  the 
"WTiigs  began  to  demand  vengeance  for  all  that  they  had,  in  the 
days  of  the  Rye  House  Plot,  suffered  at  the  hands  of  the  Tories. 
On  both  occasions  the  Sovereign  found  it  difficult  to  save  the 
vanquished  party  from  the  fury  of  his  triumphant  supporters; 
and  on  both  occasions  those  whom  he  had  disappointed  of  their 
revenge  murmured  bitterly  against  the  government  which  had 
been  so  weak  and  ungrateful  as  to  protect  its  foes  against  its 

So  early  as  the  twenty  fifth  of  March,  William  called  the 
attention  of  the  Commons  to  the  expediency  of  quieting  the 
public  mind  by  an  amnesty.  He  expressed  his  hope  that  a  bill 
of  general  pardon  and  oblivion  would  be  as  speedily  as  possible 
presented  for  his  sanction,  and  that  no  exceptions  would  be 


CHAP,  made,  except  such  as  were  absolutely  necessary  for  the  vin- 
■  ^'^-    dication  of  public  justice  and  for  the  safety  of  the  state.    The 
Commons  unanimously  agreed  to  thank  him  for  this  instance  of 
his  paternal  kindness:  but  they  suffered  many  weeks  to  pass 
without  taking  any  step  towards  the  accomplishment  of  his 
wish.  When  at  length  the  subject  was  resumed,  it  was  resumed 
in  such  a  manner  as  plainly  showed  that  the  majority  had  no 
real  intention  of  putting  an  end  to  the  suspense  which  embit- 
tered the  lives  of  all  those  Tories  who  were  conscious  that,  in 
their  zeal  for  prerogative,  they  had  sometimes  overstepped  the 
exact  line  traced  by  law.   Twelve  categories  were  framed,  some 
of  which  were  so  extensive  as  to  include  tens  of  thousands  of 
delinquents;  and  the  House  resolved  that,  under  every  one  of 
these  categories,  some  exceptions  should  be  made.   Then  came 
the  examination  into  the   cases   of  individuals.     Numerous 
culprits  and  witnesses  were  summoned  to  the  bar.    The  debates 
were  long  and  sharp ;  and  it  soon  became  evident  that  the  work 
was  interminable.     The  summer  glided  away:  the  autumn  was 
approaching:  the  session  could  not  last  much  longer;  and  of 
the  twelve  distinct  inquisitions,  which  the  Commons  had  re- 
solved to  institute,  only  three  had  been  brought  to  a  close.     It 
was  necessary  to  let  the  bill  drop  for  that  year.  * 
Last  days       Among  the  many  offenders  whose  names  were  mentioned  in 
ucyt     the  course  of  these  inquiries,  was  one  who  stood  alone  and 
unapproached  in  guilt  and  infamy,  and  whom  Whigs  and  Tories 
were  equally  willing  to  leave  to  the  extreme  rigour  of  the  law. 
On  that  terrible  day  which  was  succeeded  by  the  Ii-ish  Night, 
the  roar  of  a  great  city  disappointed  of  its  revenge  had  foUowed 
Jeffreys  to  the  drawbridge  of  the  Tower.   His  imprisonment  was 
not  strictly  legal:   but  he  at  first  accepted  with  thanks  and 


-  See  Grey's  Debates  and  the  Commons'  Journals  from  March  to  July. 
The  twelve  categories  will  be  found  in  the  Journals  of  the  23d  and  29th  of 
May  and  of  the  8th  of  June. 


blessings  the  protection  which  those  dark  walls,  made  famous    chap 

by  so  many  crimes  and  sorrows,  afforded  him  against  the  fury  • 
of  the  multitude.*  Soon,  however,  he  became  sensible  that 
his  life  was  still  in  imminent  peril.  For  a  time  he  flattered 
himself  with  the  hope  that  a  writ  of  Habeas  Corpus  would 
liberate  him  from  his  confinement,  and  that  he  should  be  able 
to  steal  away  to  some  foreign  country,  and  to  hide  himself  with 
part  of  his  ill  gotten  wealth  from  the  detestation  of  mankind : 
but,  till  the  government  was  settled,  there  was  no  Court 
competent  to  grant  a  writ  of  Habeas  Corpus;  and,  as  soon  as 
the  government  had  been  settled,  the  Habeas  Corpus  Act 
was  suspended.**  ^\^lether  the  legal  guilt  of  murder  could  be 
brought  home  to  Jeffreys  may  be  doubted.  But  he  was  morally 
guilty  of  so  many  murders  that,  if  there  had  been  no  other  way 
of  reaching  his  life,  a  retrospective  Act  of  Attainder  would  have 
been  clamorously  demanded  by  the  whole  nation.  A  disposi- 
tion to  triumph  over  the  fallen  has  never  been  one  of  the  be- 
setting sins  of  Englishmen:  but  the  hatred  of  which  Jeffreys 
was  the  object  was  without  a  parallel  in  our  history,  and  par- 
took but  too  largely  of  the  savageness  of  his  own  nature.  The 
people,  where  he  was  concerned,  were  as  cruel  as  himself,  and 
exulted  in  his  misery  as  he  had  been  accustomed  to  exult  in  the 
misery  of  convicts  listening  to  the  sentence  of  death,  and  of 
families  clad  in  mourning.  The  rabble  congregated  before  his 
deserted  mansion  in  Duke  Street,  and  read  on  the  door,  with 
shouts  of  laughter,  the  bills  which  announced  the  sale  of  his 
property.  Even  delicate  women,  who  had  tears  for  high- 
waymen and  housebreakers,  breathed  nothing  but  vengeaiice 
against  him.  The  lampoons  on  him  which  were  hawked  about 
the  town  were  distinguished  by  an  atrocity  rare  even  in  those 

•  ITalifax  M3.  in  the  British  Muspum. 

••  The  Life   and  Death  of  George   Lord  Jeffreys;   Finch'*  ipccch  la 
Grey's  Debates,  March  1.  1C8|. 

i/iic>iii(av,  Hittorij.  V.  5 





CHAP.  days.  Hanging  would  be  too  mild  a  death  for  him:  a  grave 
-  under  the  gibbet  too  respectable  a  resting  place :  he  ought  to 
be  whipped  to  death  at  the  cart's  tail:  he  ought  to  be  tortured 
like  an  Indian:  he  ought  to  be  devoured  alive.  The  street 
poets  portioned  out  all  his  joints  with  cannibal  ferocity,  and 
com])uted  how  many  pounds  of  steaks  might  be  cut  from  his 
well  fattened  carcass.  Nay,  the  rage  of  his  enemies  was  such 
that,  in  language  seldom  heard  in  England,  they  proclaimed 
their  wish  that  he  might  go  to  the  place  of  wailing  and  gnashing 
of  teeth,  to  the  worm  that  never  dies,  to  the  fire  that  is  never 
quenched.  They  exhorted  him  to  hang  himself  in  his  garters, 
and  to  cut  his  throat  with  his  razor.  They  put  up  horrible 
prayers  that  he  might  not  be  able  to  repent,  that  he  might  die 
the  same  hardhearted,  wicked  Jeff"reys  that  he  had  lived.*  His 
spirit,  as  mean  in  adversity  as  insolent  and  inhuman  in  pros- 
perity, sank  down  under  the  load  of  public  abhorrence.  His 
constitution,  originally  bad,  and  much  impaired  by  intem- 
perance ,  was  completely  broken  by  distress  and  anxiety.  He 
was  tormented  by  a  ci'uel  internal  disease,  which  the  most 
skilful  surgeons  of  that  age  were  seldom  able  to  relieve.  One 
solace  was  left  to  him,  brandy.  Even  when  he  had  causes  to 
try  and  councils  to  attend,  he  had  seldom  gone  to  bed  sober. 
Now,  when  he  had  nothing  to  occupy  his  mind  save  terrible 
recollections  and  terrible  forebodings,  he  abandoned  himself 
without  reserve  to  his  favourite  vice.  Many  believed  him  to  be 
bent  on  shortening  his  life  by  excess.     He  thought  it  better, 

•  See,  among  many  other  pieces,  Jeffreys's  Elegy,  the  Letter  to  the 
Lord  Chancellor  exposing  to  him  the  sentiments  of  the  people,  the  Elegy 
on  Dangerfield,  Dangerfield's  Ghost  to  Jeffreys,  the  Humble  Petition  of 
Widows  and  fatherless  Children  in  the  West,  the  Lord  Chancellor's  Dia- 
covcry  and  Confession  made  in  the  time  of  his  sickness  In  the  Tower; 
Hickeringill's  Ceremonymonger;  a  broadside  entitled  "O  rare  show  I  Orare 
sight!  O  strange  monster!  The  like  not  in  Europe!  To  be  seen  near  Tower 
Hill,  a  few  doors  beyond  the  Lion's  den." 



WILLI  A-U   AM)   hUUY.  67 

they  said,  to  go  off  in  a  drunken  fit  than  to  be  hacked  by  Ketch,    tiiap 
or  torn  limb  from  limb  by  the  populace. 

Once  he  ■waa  roused  from  a  state  of  al)ject  despondency 
by  an  agreeable  sensation,  speedily  followed  by  a  mortifying 
disappointment.  A  parcel  had  been  left  for  him  at  the  Tower. 
It  appeared  to  be  a  barrel  of  Colchester  oysters,  his  favourite 
dainties.  He  was  greatly  moved :  for  there  are  moments  when 
those  who  least  deserve  affection  are  pleased  to  think  that  they 
inspire  it.  "Thank  God,"  he  exclaimed,  "I  have  still  some 
friends  left."  He  opened  the  barrel ;  and  from  among  a  heap 
of  shells  out  tumbled  a  stout  halter.* 

It  does  not  appear  that  one  of  the  flatterers  or  buffoons 
whom  he  had  enriched  out  of  the  plunder  of  his  victims  came 
to  comfort  him  in  the  day  of  trouble.  But  he  was  not  left  in 
utter  soUtude.  John  Tutchin,  whom  he  had  sentenced  to  be 
flogged  everj'  fortnight  for  seven  years,  made  his  way  into 
the  Tower,  and  presented  himself  before  the  fallen  oppressor. 
Poor  Jeffreys,  humbled  to  the  dust,  behaved  with  abject  civility, 
and  called  for  whie.  "I  am  glad,  sir,"  he  said,  "to  see  you." 
"And  I  am  glad,"  answered  the  resentfunVTiig,  "to  see  Your 
Lordship  in  this  place."  "I  served  my  master,"  said  Jeffreys: 
"I  was  bound  in  conscience  to  do  so."  ""VMiere  was  your  con- 
science," said  Tutchin,  "when  you  passed  that  sentence  on 
me  at  Dorchester?"  "It  was  set  down  in  my  instructions," 
answered  Jeffreys ,  fawningly ,  "  that  I  was  to  show  no  mercy  to 
men  like  you,  men  of  parts  and  courage  AMien  I  went  back 
to  court  I  was  reprimanded  for  my  lenity."**  Even  Tutchin, 
acrimonious  as  was  his  nature,  and  great  as  were  his  ■svTongs, 
seems  to  have  been  a  little  mollified  by  the  pitiable  spectacle 
which  he  had  at  first  contemplated  with  vindictive  pleasure.    He 

•  Life  and  Death  of  Oeorjio  Lord  Jeffreys. 
••  Tutchin  bimiitif  givea  this  narrative  in  the  Bloody  Assizes. 




CHAP,  always  denied  the  truth  of  the  report  that  he  M'as  the  person  who 
-  sent  the  Colchester  barrel  to  the  Tower. 

A  more  benevolent  man ,  John  Sharp ,  the  excellent  Dean 
of  Norwich ,  forced  himself  to  visit  the  prisoner.  It  was  a  pain- 
ful task:  but  Sharp  had  been  treated  by  Jeffreys,  in  old  times, 
as  kindly  as  it  was  in  the  nature  of  Jeffreys  to  treat  any  body, 
and  had  once  or  twice  been  able,  by  patiently  waiting  till 
the  storm  of  curses  and  invectives  had  spent  itself,  and  by 
dexterously  seizing  the  moment  of  good  humour,  to  obtain  for 
unhappy  families  some  mitigation  of  their  sufferings.  The 
prisoner  was  surprised  and  pleased.  ""\ATiat,"  he  said,  "dare 
you  own  me  now?"  It  was  in  vain,  however,  that  the  amiable 
divine  tried  to  give  salutary  pain  to  that  seared  conscience. 
Jeffreys,  instead  of  acluiowledging  his  guilt,  exclaimed 
vehemently  against  the  injustice  of  mankind.  "People  call 
me  a  murderer  for  doing  what  at  the  time  was  applauded 
by  some  who  are  now  high  in  public  favour.  They  call  me 
a  drunkard  because  I  take  punch  to  relieve  me  in  my  agony." 
He  would  not  admit  that,  as  President  of  the  High  Commission, 
he  had  done  any  thing  that  deserved  reproach.  His  colleagues, 
he  said,  were  the  real  criminals;  and  now  they  threw  all  the 
blame  on  him.  He  spoke  with  peculiar  asperity  of  Sprat,  who 
had  undoubtedly  been  the  most  humane  and  moderate  member 
of  the  board. 

It  soon  became  clear  that  the  wicked  judge  was  fast  sinking 
under  the  weight  of  bodily  and  mental  suffering.  Doctor  John 
Scott,  prebendary  of  Saint  Paul's,  a  clergyman  of  great  sanctity, 
and  author  of  the  Christian  Life,  a  treatise  once  widelyrenowned, 
was  summoned,  probably  on  the  recommendation  of  his  intimate 
friend  Sharp,  to  the  bedside  of  the  dying  man.  It  was  in  vain, 
however,  that  Scott  spoke,  as  Sharp  had  already  spoken,  of 
the  hideous  butcheries  of  Dorchester  and  Taunton.  To  the  last 
Jeffreys  continued  to  repeat  that  those  who  thought  him  cruel 

WILLIAM   AKD   ilAUX.  69 

did  not  know  what  his  orders  were,  that  he  deser\-ed  praise  chap. 
instead  of  blame,  and  that  his  cleraency  had  dra\TO  on  him  the  — ~- 
cxtreme  displeasure  of  his  master.* 

Disease,  assisted  by  strong  drink  and  by  misery,  did  its 
work  fast.  The  patient's  stomach  rejected  all  nourishment. 
He  dwindled  in  a  few  weeks  from  a  jiortly  and  even  corpulent 
man  to  a  skeleton.  On  the  ei{,'hteenth  of  April  he  died,  in  the 
forty  first  year  of  his  age.  He  had  been  Chief  Justice  of  the 
King's  Bench  at  thirty  five,  and  Lord  Chancellor  at  thirty  seven. 
In  the  whole  history  of  the  English  bar  there  is  no  other  instance 
of  so  rapid  an  elevation,  or  of  so  terrible  a  fall.  The  emaciated 
corpse  was  laid,  with  all  privacy,  next  to  the  corpse  of  Monmouth 
in  the  chapel  of  the  Tower.  ** 

The  fall  of  this  man,  once  so  great  and  so  much  dreaded, 
the  horror  with  which  he  was  regarded  by  all  the  respectable 

•  Sec  the  Life  of  Archblsliop  Sharp  by  hia  son.  What  passed  between 
Scott  and  Jeffreys  was  related  by  Scott  to  Sir  Joscpli  Jekyl.  See  Tindal's 
History;  Echard,  iii.  932.  Echard's  informant,  who  is  not  named,  but  wlio 
seems  to  liave  liad  good  opportunities  of  itnowing  the  truth,  said  that 
Jeffreys  died,  not,  iia  the  vulgar  believed,  of  drink,  but  of  tlie  stone.  The 
distinction  seems  to  bo  of  little  importance.  It  is  certain  tliat  JtfTrcys  was 
grossly  intemperate;  and  his  malady  was  one  wliich  intemperance  noto- 
riously tends  to  ai,'gravato. 

••  See  a  Full  and  True  Account  of  the  Death  of  George  Lord  Jeffreys, 
licensed  on  the  day  of  liis  death.  The  wrctcheil  Lc  Noble  was  never  weary 
of  repeating  that  Jeffreys  was  poisoned  by  the  usurper.  I  will  give  a  short 
passage  as  a  specimen  of  the  calumnies  of  which  William  was  the  object. 
"Ilcnvoya,"  says  ra.s<iuin,  "ce  Cn  ragoiU  de  champignons  au  Chancclier 
JeCfreys,  prisonnier  dans  la  Tour,  qui  les  trouva  du  meme  goust,  et  du 
niSmo  assaisonnement  que  furent  les  derniers  dont  Agrippine  regala  le 
bun-homme  Claudius  soi\  opoux,  et  que  Neron  appella  depuis  la  viande  des 
Dieux."  Marforio  asks:  "  Le  Charicelier  est  done  niort  dans  la  Tour?" 
Piisquin  answers:  "II  estoit  trop  hdfclo  k  son  Roi  l(?gitime,  et  trop  habile 
dans  les  loix  du  royaume,  pour  (<chaiipor  a  I'Csurpatcur  qu'il  nc  vouloit 
point  reconnoistre.  Guillemot  i)rit  soin  de  faire  publier  quo  ce  malhcurcux 
prisonnier  estoit  attaqud  d'une  tifevro  maligue :  mais,  k  parlor  francheraent, 
11  vivroit  iieutestre  encore,  s'il  n'avoit  rien  mangd  que  de  la  main  do  aes 
anciens  cuisinlcrs."  —  Le  Fcstin  de  Guillemot,  1689.  Dangeau  (May  7.) 
luoutioos  a  report  that  Jetfreys  had  poisoned  himself. 


CHAP,  members  of  his  own  party,    the  manner  in  which  the  least 
^'^'    respectable  members  of  that  party  renounced  fellowship  with 


him  in  his  distress,  and  threw  on  him  the  whole  blame  of  crimes 
which  they  had  encouraged  him  to  commit,  ought  to  have  been 
a  lesson  to  those  intemperate  friends  of  liberty  who  were 
clamouring  for  a  new  proscription.  But  it  was  a  lesson  which 
The  too  many  of  them  disregarded.  The  King  had,  at  the  very 
disjatis-  commencement  of  his  reign,  displeased  them  by  appointing  a  few 
the  King.  Torics  and  Trimmers  to  high  offices ;  and  the  discontent  excited 
by  these  appointments  had  been  inflamed  by  his  attempt  to 
obtain  a  general  amnesty  for  the  vanquished.  He  was  in  truth 
not  a  man  to  be  popular  with  the  vindictive  zealots  of  any 
faction.  For  among  his  peculiarities  was  a  certain  ungracious 
humanity  which  rarely  conciliated  his  foes,  which  often  provoked 
his  adherents,  but  in  which  he  doggedly  persisted,  without 
troubling  himself  either  about  the  thanklessness  of  those  whom 
he  had  saved  from  destruction,  or  about  the  rage  of  those  whom 
he  had  disappointed  of  their  revenge.  Some  of  the  Whigs  now 
spoke  of  him  as  bitterly  as  they  had  ever  spoken  of  either  of  his 
uncles.  He  was  a  Stuart  after  all,  and  was  not  a  Stuart  for 
nothing.  Like  the  rest  of  the  race ,  he  loved  arbitrary  power. 
In  Holland,  he  had  succeeded  in  making  himself,  under  the 
forms  of  a  republican  polity,  scarcely  less  absolute  than  the  old 
hereditary  Counts  had  been.  In  consequence  of  a  strange 
combination  of  circumstances,  his  interest  had,  during  a  short 
time,  coincided  with  the  interest  of  the  English  people:  but 
though  he  had  been  a  deliverer  by  accident,  he  was  a  despot  by 
nature.  He  had  no  sympathy  with  the  just  resentments  of  the 
^Vhigs.  He  had  objects  in  view  which  the  Whigs  would  not 
willingly  suffer  any  Sovereign  to  attain.  He  knew  that  the 
Tories  were  the  only  tools  for  his  purpose.  He  had  therefore, 
from  the  moment  at  which  he  took  his  seat  on  the  throne, 
favoured  them  unduly.     He  was  now  trying  to  procure  an 


indemnity  for  those  very  delinquents  whom  he  had,  a  few  ciup. 
months  before,  described  in  his  Declaration  as  of— ,-5^ 
exemplary  punishment.  In  November  he  had  told  the  world 
that  the  crimes  in  which  these  men  had  borne  a  part  had  made 
it  the  duty  of  subjects  to  violate  their  oath  of  allegiance,  of 
soldiers  to  desert  their  standards,  of  children  to  make  war  on 
their  parents.  With  what  consistency  then  could  he  recommend 
that  such  crimes  should  be  covered  by  a  general  oblivion?  And 
was  there  not  too  much  reason  to  fear  that  he  wished  to  save  the 
agents  of  tyranny  from  the  fate  which  they  merited ,  in  the  hope 
that,  at  some  future  time,  they  might  serve  him  as  unscrupulously 
as  they  had  served  his  father  in  law?* 

Of  the  members  of  the  House  of  Commons  who  were  '"';"- 
animated  by  these  feelings,  the  fiercest  and  most  audacious  was  of  how«. 
Howe.  He  went  so  far  on  one  occasion  as  to  move  that  an  in- 
quiry should  be  instituted  into  the  proceedings  of  the  Parlia- 
ment of  1685,  and  that  some  note  of  infamy  should  be  put  on 
all  who,  in  that  Parliament,  had  voted  -with  the  Court.  This 
absurd  and  mischievous  motion  was  discountenanced  by  all  the 
most  respectable  Whigs,  and  strongly  opposed  by  Buxh  and 
Maynard.**  Howe  was  forced  to  give  way:  but  he  was  a  man 
whom  no  check  could  abash ;  and  he  was  encouraged  by  the  ap- 
plause of  many  hotheaded  members  of  his  party,  who  were  far 
from  foreseeing  that  he  would,  after  having  been  the  most 
rancorous  and  unprincipled  of  A^^ligs,  become,  at  no  distant 
time,  the  most  rancorous  and  unprincipled  of  Tories. 

•  Among  the  numerous  pieces  in  which  the  malecontcnt  Whigs  Tented 
their  anger,  none  is  more  curious  than  the  poem  entitled  the  Ghost  of 
Charles  the  Second.     Charles  addresses  William  thus: 

"Hail,  my  blest  nephew,  whom  the  fates  ordain 
To  fill  the  measure  of  the  Stuart's  reign, 
That  all  the  ills  by  our  wliole  race  designed 
In  thee  their  full  accomplishment  might  find: 
'Tis  thou  that  art  decreed  this  point  to  clear. 
Which  we  have  laboured  for  these  fourscore  year." 
••  Orey'i  Debates,  June  12.  1689. 


CFiAP.  This  quickwitted,  restless  and  malignant  politician,  though 
— jg^g'"  himself  occupying  a  lucrative  place  in  the  royal  household,  de- 
Attack  on  claimed,  day  after  day,  against  the  manner  in  which  the  gi-eat 
^aemar-  ^fg^gg  pf  g^^^g  ^gj.g  fiHg^j  and  his  declamations  were  echoed, 
in  tones  somewhat  less  sharp  and  vehement,  by  other  orators. 
No  man,  they  said,  who  had  been  a  minister  of  Charles  or 
of  James  ought  to  be  a  minister  of  William.  The  first  attack 
was  directed  against  the  Lord  President  Caermarthen.  Howe 
moved  that  an  address  should  be  presented  to  the  King,  re- 
questing that  all  persons  who  had  ever  been  impeached  by  the 
Commons  might  be  dismissed  from  His  Majesty's  counsels  ano 
presence.  The  debate  on  this  motion  was  repeatedly  adjourned^ 
"WTiile  the  event  was  doubtful,  William  sent  Dykvelt  to  ex- 
postulate with  Howe.  Howe  was  obdurate.  He  was  what  is 
vulgarly  called  a  disinterested  man;  that  is  to  say,  he  valued 
money  less  than  the  pleasure  of  venting  his  spleen  and  of 
making  a  sensation.  " I  am  doing  the  King  a  service ,"  he  said: 
"I  am  rescuing  him  from  false  friends:  and,  as  to  my  place, 
that  shall  never  be  a  gag  to  prevent  me  from  speaking  my 
mind."  The  motion  was  made ,  but  completely  failed.  In  truth 
the  proposition,  that  mere  accusation,  never  prosecuted  to 
conviction,  ought  to  be  considered  as  a  decisive  proof  of  guilt, 
was  shocking  to  natural  justice.  The  faults  of  Caermarthen  had 
doubtless  been  great;  but  they  had  been  exaggerated  by  party 
spirit,  had  been  expiated  by  severe  suffering,  and  had  been 
redeemed  by  recent  and  eminent  services.  At  the  time  when  he 
raised  the  great  county  of  York  in  arms  against  Popery  and 
t}'ranny,  he  had  been  assured  by  some  of  the  most  eminent 
"SMiigs  that  all  old  quarrels  were  forgotten.  Howe  indeed  main- 
tained that  the  civilities  which  had  passed  in  the  moment  of 
peril  signified  nothing.  "When  a  viper  is  on  my  hand,"  he 
said,  "I  am  verj'  tender  of  him;  but,  as  soon  as  I  have  him  on 
the  ground,  I  set  my  foot  on  him  and  crush  him."     The  Lord 

WlLLlAil   AUD  iUItl.  73 

President,  however,  was  so  strongly  supported  that,  after  a    chap. 



discussion  which  lasted  three  days,  his  enemies  did  not  venture 
to  take  the  sense  of  the  House  on  the  motion  against  him.  In 
the  course  of  the  debate  a  grave  constitutional  question  was 
incidentally  raised.  This  question  was  whether  a  pardon  could 
be  pleaded  in  bar  of  a  parliamentar)'  impeachment.  The  Com- 
mons resolved,  without  a  division,  that  a  pardon  could  not  be 
80  pleaded.* 

The  ne.\t  attack  was  made  on  Halifax.  He  was  in  a  much  •^'i'""''  "•> 
more  invidious  position  than  Caermarthen,  who  had,  under 
pretence  of  ill  health ,  withdrawn  himself  almost  entirely  from 
business.  Halifax  was  generally  regarded  as  the  chief  adviser 
of  the  Crown ,  and  was  in  an  especial  manner  held  responsible 
for  all  the  faults  which  had  been  committed  with  respect  to 
Ireland.  The  evils  which  had  brought  that  kingdom  to  ruin 
might,  it  was  said,  have  been  averted  by  timely  precaution,  or 
remedied  by  vigorous  exertion.  But  the  government  had  fore- 
seen nothing:  it  had  done  little;  and  that  little  had  been  done 
neither  at  the  right  time  nor  in  the  right  way.  Negotiation  had 
been  employed  instead  of  troops,  when  a  few  troops  might  have 
sufficed.  A  few  ti-oops  had  been  sent  when  many  were  needed. 
The  troops  that  had  been  sent  had  been  ill  equipped  and  ill 
commanded.  Such,  the  vehement  Whigs  exclaimed,  were  the 
natural  fruits  of  that  great  error  which  King  A\'illiam  had  com- 
mitted on  the  first  day  of  his  reign.  He  had  placed  in  Tories 
and  Trimmers  a  confidence  which  they  did  not  deserve.  He 
had;  in  a  peculiar  manner,  entrusted  the  direction  of  Irish 
affairs  to  the  Trimmer  of  Trimmers,  to  a  man  whose  ability  no- 
body disputed ,  but  who  was  not  firmly  attached  to  the  new 
government,  Avho,  indeed,  was  incapable  of  being  firmly  at- 
tached to  any  government,  who  had  always  halted  between  two 

•  ace  Commons'  Journals,  and  Grcy'ii  Debates,  June  J.  3.  and  4.  1689; 
Life  of  William,  1704. 


74:  mSTOET    OF  ENGLANT). 

CHAP,  opinions,  and  who,  till  the  moment  of  the  flight  of  James,  had 
-  not  given  up  the  hope  that  the  discontents  of  the  nation  might 
be  quieted  without  a  change  of  dynasty.  Howe,  on  twenty  oc- 
casions, designated  Halifax  as  the  cause  of  all  the  calamities 
of  the  country,  Monmouth  held  similar  language  in  the  House 
of  Lords.  Though  First  Lord  of  the  Treasury,  he  paid  no 
attention  to  financial  business,  for  which  he  was  altogether 
unfit,  and  of  which  he  had  very  soon  become  weaiy.  His  whole 
heart  was  in  the  work  of  persecuting  the  Tories.  He  plainly 
told  the  King  that  nobody  who  was  not  a  Whig  ought  to  be  em- 
ployed in  the  public  service.  William's  answer  was  cool  and 
determined.  "  I  have  done  as  much  for  your  friends  as  I  can  do 
without  danger  to  the  state;  and  I  will  do  no  more."*  The 
only  effect  of  this  reprimand  was  to  make  Monmouth  more 
factious  than  ever.  Against  Halifax  especially  he  intrigued 
and  harangued  with  indefatigable  animosity.  The  other  Whig 
Lords  of  the  Treasury,  Delamere  and  Capel,  were  scarcely  less 
eager  to  drive  the  Lord  Privy  Seal  from  office ;  and  personal 
jealousy  and  antipathy  impelled  the  Lord  President  to  conspire 
with  his  own  accusers  against  his  rival. 

What  foundation  there  may  have  been  for  the  imputations 
thrown  at  this  time  on  Halifax  cannot  now  be  fully  ascertained. 
His  enemies,  though  they  interrogated  numerous  witnesses, 
and  though  they  obtained  William's  reluctant  permission  to 
inspect  the  minutes  of  the  Privy  Council,  could  find  no  evidence 
which  would  support  a  definite  charge.**  But  it  was  undeniable 
that  the  Lord  Privy  Seal  had  acted  as  minister  for  Ireland,  and 
that  Ii-eland  was  all  but  lost.  It  is  unnecessary,  and  indeed 
absurd,  to  suppose,  as  many  Whigs  supposed,  that  his  ad- 
ministration was  unsuccessful  because  he  did  not  wish  it  to  be 

*  Burnet  MS.  Harl.  6584.;  Avaux  to  De  Croissy,  June  4f.  1G89. 
**  As  to  the  minutes  of  the  Privy  Council,  see  the  Commons'  Journals 
of  June  22.  and  28.,  and  of  July  3.  5.  13.  and  IC. 

W'lLIJAM   AND   MART.  75 

successful.  The  truth  seems  to  be  that  the  difficulties  of  the  chap. 
situation  were  great,  and  that  he,  with  all  his  ingenuity  and  -  ^^^g'  ■ 
eloquence,  was  ill  qualified  to  cope  with  those  difficulties.  The 
whole  machinery  of  government  was  out  of  joint;  and  he  was 
not  the  man  to  set  it  right,  '\\liat  was  wanted  was  not  what  he 
had  in  large  measure,  wit,  taste,  amplitude  of  comprehension, 
subtlety  in  drawing  distinctions;  but  what  he  had  not,  prompt 
decision,  indefatigable  energy,  and  stubborn  resolution.  His 
mind  was  at  best  of  too  soft  a  temper  for  such  work  as  he  had 
now  to  do,  and  had  been  recently  made  softer  by  severe  afflic- 
tion. He  had  lost  two  sons  in  less  than  twelve  months.  A  letter 
is  still  extant,  in  which  he  at  this  time  complained  to  his 
honoured  friend  Lady  Russell  of  the  desolation  of  his  hearth 
and  of  the  cruel  ingratitude  of  the  AVhigs.  "VVe  possess,  also, 
the  answer,  in  which  she  gently  exhorted  him  to  seek  for  con- 
solation where  she  had  found  it  under  trials  not  less  severe 
than  his.* 

The  first  attack  on  him  was  made  in  the  Upper  House.  Some 
^^'hig  Lords,  among  whom  the  wayward  and  petulant  First 
Lord  of  the  Treasury  was  conspicuous,  proposed  that  the  King 
should  be  requested  to  appoint  a  new  Speaker.  The  friends  of 
Halifax  moved  and  carried  the  previous  question.**  About  three 
weeks  later  his  persecutors  moved,  in  a  Committee  of  the  whole 
House  of  Commons ,  a  resolution  which  imputed  to  him  no  par- 
ticular crime  either  of  omission  or  of  commission,  but  simply 
declared  it  to  be  advisable  that  he  should  be  dismissed  from  the 
service  of  the  Crown.     The  debate  was  warm.     Moderate  poli- 

•  The  letter  of  Halifax  to  Lady  Russell  is  dated  on  the  23d  of  July  16S9, 
about  R  fortnight  after  the  iittack  on  him  in  the  Lords,  and  about  a  week 
before  the  attack  on  him  in  the  Commons. 

••  See  the  Lords' Journals  of  July  10.  JGS9,  and  a  letter  from  London 
dated  July  \\,  and  transmitted  by  Crolssy  to  Avaux.  Don  Pedro  dc  Ron- 
quillo  mentions  this  attack  of  the  Whig  Lords  on  Halifax  in  a  despatch  of 
which  I  cannot  make  out  the  date. 


CHAP,  ticians  of  both  parties  were  unwilling  to  put  a  stigma  on  a  man, 
■  not  indeed  faultless ,  but  distinguished  both  by  his  abilities  and 


by  his  amiable  qualities.  His  accusers  saw  that  they  could  not 
cany  their  point,  and  tried  to  escape  from  a  decision  which  was 
certain  to  be  adverse  to  them ,  by  proposing  that  the  Chairman 
should  report  progi-ess.  But  their  tactics  were  disconcerted  by 
the  judicious  and  spirited  conduct  of  Lord  Eland,  now  the 
Marquess's  only  son.  "My  father  has  not  desers'ed,"  said  the 
young  nobleman,  "to  be  thus  trifled  with.  If  you  think  him 
culpable,  say  so.  He  will  at  once  submit  to  your  A'erdict.  Dis- 
mission from  Court  has  no  terrors  for  him.  He  is  raised ,  by  the 
goodness  of  God,  above  the  necessity  of  looking  to  office  for  the 
means  of  supporting  his  rank."  The  Committee  divided,  and 
Halifax  was  absolved  by  a  majority  of  fourteen.* 
prepara-        Had  the  divisiou  been  postponed  a  few  hours,  the  majority 

tioiis    for  f  mi       /-I  J 

a  cam-     would  probably  have  been  much  greater.     The  Commons  voted 

ireianii.   Under  the  impression  that  Londonderry  had  fallen ,  and  that  all 

Ireland  was  lost.     Scarcely  had  the  House  risen  when  a  courier 

arrived  with  news  that  the  boom  on  the  Foyle  had  been  broken. 

He  was  speedily  followed  by  a  second,  who  announced  the 

•  This  was  on  Saturday  the  3d  of  August.  As  the  division  was  in 
Committee,  the  numbers  do  not  appear  in  the  Journals.  Clarendon,  in  his 
Diary,  says  that  the  majority  was  eleven.  But  Narcissus  Luttrell,  Old- 
mixon,  and  Tindal  agree  in  putting  it  at  fourteen.  Most  of  the  little 
information  which  I  have  been  able  to  find  about  the  debate  is  contained 
in  a  despatch  of  Don  Pedro  de  Ronquillo.  "Se  resolvio,"  he  says,  "que 
el  sabado,  en  comity  de  toda  la  casa,  se  tratassc  del  cstado  de  la  nacion 
para  representarle  al  Rey.  Emperose  por  acusar  al  Marques  de  Olifax; 
y  reconociendo  sus  emulos  que  no  tcnian  partido  bastante,  quisieron  remitir 
para  otro  dia  csta  mocion:  pcro  el  Condo  de  Elan,  primogcuito  del 
Marques  de  Olifax,  miembro  de  la  casa,  les  dijo  que  su  padre  no  era 
hombre  para  andat  pclotcando  con  ol,  y  que  se  tubiesse  culpa  lo  acabasen 
de  castigar,  que  el  no  bavia  mcncster  estar  en  la  corte  para  portarse  con- 
forme  &  su  estado,  pues  Dios  lo  havia  dado  abundamente  para  poderlo 
hazer;  con  que  por  pluralidad  de  voces  vencio  su  partido."  I  suspect  that 
Lord  Eland  meant  to  sneer  at  the  poverty  of  some  of  his  father's  persecu- 
tors, and  at  the  greediness  of  others. 

1 689. 

WILLIAM   AND   MAUr.  77 

rfviMng  of  the  sicf^e,  and  by  a  third  who  brought  the  tidings  of  chap. 
the  battle  of  Newton  Butler.  Hope  and  exultation  succeeded  -  ' 
to  discontent  and  dismay.*  Ulster  was  safe ;  and  it  was  con- 
fidently expected  that  Schomberg  would  speedily  reconquer 
Leinster,  Connaught,  and  Munster.  He  was  now  ready  to  set 
out.  The  port  of  Chester  was  the  place  from  which  he  was  to 
take  his  departure.  The  army  which  he  was  to  command  had 
assembled  there;  and  the  Dee  was  crowded  with  men  of  war 
and  transports.  Unfortunately  almost  all  those  English  soldiers 
who  had  seen  war  had  been  sent  to  Flanders.  The  bulk  of  the 
force  destined  for  Ireland  consisted  of  men  just  taken  from  the 
plough  and  the  threshing  floor.  There  was,  however,  an  ex- 
cellent brigade  of  Dutch  troops  under  the  command  of  an  ex- 
perienced officer,  the  Count  of  Solmes.  Four  regiments,  one 
of  cavalry  and  three  of  infantry,  had  been  formed  out  of  the 
French  refugees,  many  of  whom  had  borne  arms  with  credit. 
No  person  did  more  to  promote  the  raising  of  these  regiments 
than  the  Marquess  of  lluvigny.  He  had  been  during  many  years 
an  eminently  faithful  and  useful  servant  of  the  French  govern- 
ment. So  highly  was  his  merit  appreciated  at  Versailles  that  he 
had  been  solicited  to  accept  indulgences  which  scarcely  any 
other  heretic  could  by  any  solrcitation  obtain.  Had  he  chosen 
to  remain  in  his  native  country,  he  and  his  household  would 
have  been  permitted  to  worship  God  privately  according  to  their 
o^vn  forms.  But  lluvigny  rejected  all  offers ,  cast  in  his  lot  with 
his  brethren,  and,  at  upwards  of  eighty  years  of  age,  quitted 
Versailles,  where  he  might  still  have  been  a  favourite,  for  a 
modest  dwelling  at  Greenwich.  That  dwelling  was ,  during  the 
last  months  of  his  life,  the  resort  of  all  that  was  most  distin- 
guished among  his  fellow  exiles.  His  abilities,  his  experience 
and  his  munificent  kindness,  made  him  the  undisputed  chief  of 

•  Tliii   chanpe   of  feeling,    Immediately   following  the  debate  on  the 
motion  for  removing  Ualifox,  is  noticed  by  Konquillo. 

78  msiOEY  OP  EKGLAlfD. 

CHAP,  the  refugees.  He  was  at  the  same  time  half  an  Eno:lishman: 
-  j'ggg'  ■•  for  his  sister  had  been  Countess  of  Southampton,  and  he  was 
uncle  of  Lady  Russell.  He  was  long  past  the  time  of  action. 
But  his  two  sons,  both  men  of  eminent  courage,  devoted  their 
swords  to  the  service  of  William.  The  younger  son ,  who  bore 
the  name  of  Caillemote,  was  appointed  colonel  of  one  of  the 
Hugujenot  regiments  of  foot.  The  two  other  regiments  of  foot 
were  commanded  by  La  Melloniere  and  Cambon,  officers  of 
high  reputation.  The  regiment  of  horse  was  raised  by  Schom- 
berg  himself,  and  bore  his  name.  Ruvigny  lived  just  long 
enough  to  see  these  arrangements  complete.* 
schom-  The  general  to  whom  the  direction  of  the  expedition  against 
Ireland  was  confided  had  wonderfully  succeeded  in  obtaining 
the  aff"ection  and  esteem  of  the  English  nation.  He  had  been 
made  a  Duke,  a  Knight  of  the  Garter,  and  Master  of  the 
Ordnance:  he  was  now  placed  at  the  head  of  an  army:  and  yet 
his  elevation  excited  none  of  that  jealousy  which  showed  itself 
as  often  as  any  mark  of  royal  favour  was  bestowed  on  Bentinck, 
on  Zulestein ,  or  on  Auverquerque.  Schomberg's  military  skill 
was  universally  acknowledged.  He  was  regarded  by  all  Pro- 
testants as  a  confessor  who  had  endured  every  thing  short  of 
martyrdom  for  the  truth.  For  his  religion  he  had  resigned  a 
splendid  income,  had  laid  down  the  truncheon  of  a  Marshal  of 
France ,  and  had ,  at  near  eighty  years  of  age ,  begim  the  world 
again  as  a  needy  soldier  of  fortune.  As  he  had  no  connection 
with  the  United  Provinces,  and  had  never  belonged  to  the  little 
Court  of  the  Hague,  the  preference  given  to  him  over  English 
captains  was  justly  ascribed,  not  to  national  or  personal  par- 

*  As  to  Ruvigny,  see  Saint  Simon's  Memoirs  of  the  year  1697;  Burnet, 
i.  366.  Tliere  is  some  interesting  information  about  Ruvigny  and  about  the 
Huguenot  regiments  in  a  narrative  written  by  a  Frencli  refugee  of  the  name 
of  Dumont.  This  narrative,  which  is  in  manuscript,  and  which  I  shall 
occasionally  quote  as  the  Dumont  MS.,  was  Kindly  lent  to  me  by  the  Dean 
of  Osfiory. 

WILLIAM  A^•D  MAny.  79 

tiality,  but  to  his  virtues  and  his  abilities.  His  deportment  chap 
differed  widely  from  that  of  the  other  foreigners  who  had  just  ——- 
been  created  English  peers.  They,  with  many  respectable 
qualities,  were,  in  tastes,  manners,  and  predilections,  Dutch- 
men, and  could  not  catch  the  tone  of  the  society  to  which  they 
had  been  transferred.  He  was  a  citizen  of  the  world,  had  tra- 
velled over  all  Europe,  had  commanded  armies  ontheMeuse, 
on  the  Ebro,  and  on  the  Tagus,  had  shone  in  the  splendid  circle 
of  Versailles ,  and  had  been  in  high  favour  at  the  court  of  Berlin. 
He  had  often  been  taken  by  French  noblemen  for  a  French 
nobleman.  He  had  passed  some  time  in  England,  spoke  English 
remarkably  well,  accommodated  himself  easily  to  English  man- 
ners, and  was  often  seen  walking  in  the  park  with  English  com- 
panions. In  youth  his  habits  had  been  temperate;  and  his 
temperance  had  its  proper  reward,  a  singularly  green  and 
vigorous  old  age.  At  fourscore  he  retained  a  strong  relish  for 
inuocent  pleasures:  he  conversed  with  great  courtesy  and 
sprightliness:  nothing  could  be  in  better  taste  than  his  equi- 
pages and  his  table;  and  everj*  comet  of  cavalry  envied  the 
grace  and  dignity  with  which  the  veteran  appeared  in  Hyde 
Park  on  his  charger  at  the  head  of  his  regiment.*  The  House 
of  Commons  had,  with  general  approbation,  compensated  his 
losses  and  rewarded  his  services  by  a  grant  of  a  hundred  thou- 
sand pounds.  Before  he  set  out  for  Ireland,  he  requested  per- 
mission to  express  his  gratitude  for  this  magnificent  present. 
A  chair  was  set  for  him  within  the  bar.  He  took  his  seat  there 
with  the  m.ace  at  his  right  hand,  rose,  and  in  a  few  graceful 
words  returned  his  thanks  and  took  his  leave.  The  Speaker 
replied  that  the  Commons  could  never  forget  the  obligation 
under  which  they  already  lay  to  His  Grace,  that  they  saw  him 

•  See  the  Abr^gtf  do  la  Vie  de  Frederic  Due  de  Schotnberg  by  Lanancy, 
1690,  the  Meraoirs  of  Count  Dohna,  and  the  note  of  Saint  Simon  on  Don- 
goaii'il  Journal,  July  30.  1690. 


CHAP,  with  pleasure  at  the  head  of  an  English  army,  that  they  felt 
— j^— —  entire  confidence  in  his  zeal  and  ability,  and  that,  at  whatever 
distance  he  might  be,  he  would  always  be  in  a  peculiar  manner 
an  object  of  their  care.     The  precedent  set  on  this  interesting 
occasion  was  followed  with  the  utmost  minuteness,  a  hundred 
and  twenty  five  years  later,  on  an  occasion  more  interesting 
still.    Exactly  on  the  same  spot  on  which,  in  July  1689 ,  Sehom- 
berg  had  acknowledged  the  liberality  of  the  nation ,  a  chair  was 
set,  in  July  1814,  for  a  still  more  illustrious  warrior,  who  came 
to  return  thanks  for  a  still  more  splendid  mark  of  public  gra- 
titude.    Few  things  illustrate  more  strikingly  the  peculiar  cha- 
racter of  the  English  government  and  people  than  the  circum- 
stance that  the  House  of  Commons,  a  popular  assembly,  should, 
even  in  a  moment  of  joyous  enthusiasm,  have  adhered  to  an- 
cient forms  with  the  punctilious  accuracy  of  a  College  of  Heralds ; 
that  the  sitting  and  rising,  the  covering  and  the  uncovering, 
should  have  been  regulated  by  exactly  the  same  etiquette  in  the 
nineteenth  century  as  in  the  seventeenth;  and  that  the  same 
mace  which  had  been  held  at  the  right  hand  of  Schomberg 
should  have  been  held  in  the  same  position  at  the  right  hand  of 
Recess  of        On  the  twentieth  of  August  the  Parliament,  having  been 
liament.  Constantly  engaged  in  business  during  seven  months ,  broke  up, 
by  the  royal  command ,  for  a  short  recess.     The  same  Gazette 
which  announced  that  the  Houses  had  ceased  to  sit  announced 
that  Schomberg  had  landed  in  Ireland.** 
Slate  of         During  the  three  weeks  which  preceded  his  landing,  the 
Adlice'ot  dismay  and  confusion  at  Dublin  Castle  had  been  extreme.    Dis- 
Avaux.     aster  had  followed  disaster  so  fast  that  the  mind  of  James,  never 
very  firm,  had  been  completely  prostrated.    He  had  learned 

•  See  the  Commons'  Journals  of  July  16.  1689,  and  of  July  1.  1814. 
**  Jonrnala  of  the  Lords  and  Commons,  Aug.  20.  1689;  London  Gazette, 
Aug.  23. 



first  that  Londonderrv  had  been  relieved;  then  that  one  of  his    chap. 

*  XIV 

armies  had  been  beaten  by  the  Enniskillencrs;  then  that- 
another  of  his  annies  was  retreating,  or  rather  flying,  from 
Ulster,  reduced  in  numbers  and  broken  in  spirit;  then  that 
Sligo,  the  key  of  Connaught,  had  been  abandoned  to  the 
Englishrj'.  He  had  found  it  impossible  to  subdue  the  colo- 
nists, even  when  they  were  left  almost  unaided.  He  might 
therefore  well  doubt  Mhether  it  would  be  possible  for  him  to 
contend  against  them  when  they  were  backed  by  an  English 
army,  under  the  command  of  the  gi-eatest  general  living?  The 
unhappy  prince  seemed,  during  some  days,  to  be  sunk  in  de- 
spondency. On  Avaux  the  danger  produced  a  very  different 
effect.  Now,  he  thought,  was  the  time  to  turn  the  war  between 
the  English  and  the  Irish  into  a  war  of  extirpation,  and  to  make 
it  impossible  that  the  two  nations  could  ever  be  united  under 
one  government.  With  this  view,  he  coolly  submitted  to  the 
King  a  proposition  of  almost  incredible  atrocity.  There  must 
be  a  Saint  Bartholomew.  A  pretext  would  easily  be  found. 
No  doubt,  when  Schomberg  was  known  to  be  in  Ireland,  there 
would  be  some  excitement  in  those  southern  towns  of  which  the 
population  was  chiefly  English.  Any  disturbance,  wherever  it 
might  take  place,  would  funiish  an  excuse  for  a  general  mas- 
sacre of  the  Protestants  of  Leinster,  Munster,  and  Connaught.* 
As  the  King  did  not  at  first  express  any  horror  at  this  sug- 
gestion,** the  Envoy,  a  few  days  later,  renewed  the  subject, 
and  pressed  His  Majesty  to  give  the  necessary  orders.  Then 
James,  with  a  warmth  which  did  him  honour,  declared  that 

•  "  J'estois  d'avis  qu',  aprbs  quo  la  dcsccnto  seroit  faite,  si  on  apprc- 
nolt  quo   de3   Protestans    so    fusscnt    soulcvcz    en   quclqucs   endroits   da 

royanine,  on  fit  main  basse  sur  tous  gdndralcracnt." —  Avanx, 777- 

"  Aug.  10. 


••  "T.p  Roy  d'Angleterro  m'avoit  tfcoutd  aascz  paisiblcment  la  prcmibre 

foli  que  Je  luy  avois  proposd  ce  qu'il  y  avoit  h,  fairo  contre  les  Protcstans." 

—  Avaux,  Aug.  j*,. 

Mncnulay,  llistory.    V.  ^ 



CHAP,  nothing  should  induce  him  to  commit  such  a  crime.  "These 
'  ■  -  people  are  my  subjects;  and  I  cannot  be  so  cruel  as  to  cut  their 
throats  while  they  live  peaceably  under  my  government." 
"There  is  nothing  cruel,"  answered  the  callous  diplomatist, 
"in  whatl  recommend.  Your  Majesty  ought  to  consider  that 
mercy  to  Protestants  is  cruelty  to  Catholics."  James ,  however, 
was  not  to  be  moved;  and  Avaux  retired  in  very  bad  humour. 
His  belief  was  that  the  King's  professions  of  humanity  were 
hypocritical,  and  that,  if  the  orders  for  the  butchery  were  not 
given,  they  were  not  given  only  because  His  Majesty  was  con- 
fident that  the  Catholics  all  over  the  country  would  fall  on  the 
Protestants  without  waiting  for  orders.*  But  Avaux  was  entirely 
mistaken.  That  he  should  have  supposed  James  to  be  as  pro- 
foundly immoral  as  himself  is  not  strange.  But  it  is  strange  that 
BO  able  a  man  should  have  forgotten  that  James  and  himself 
had  quite  difi"erent  objects  in  view.  The  object  of  the  Am- 
bassador's poHtics  was  to  make  the  separation  between  England 
and  Ireland  eternal.  The  object  of  the  King's  politics  was  to 
unite  England  and  L-eland  under  his  own  sceptre;  and  he 
could  not  but  be  aware  that,  if  there  should  be  a  general  mas- 
sacre of  the  Protestants  of  three  provinces ,  and  he  should  be 
suspected  of  having  authorised  it  or  of  having  connived  at  it, 
there  would  in  a  fortnight  be  not  a  Jacobite  left  even  at  Oxford.** 

*  Avaux,  Aug.  -j^.  He  says,  "Je  m'imaglne  qu'il  est  pcrsuadd  que, 
quoiqu'il  ne  donne  point  d'ordre  sur  cela,  la  plupart  des  Catboliques  de  la 
campagne  sejctteront  sur  les  Protestans." 

Aug    27 

**  Lewis,  ,  reprimanded  Avaux ,  though  much  too  gently,  for 

proposing  to  butcher  the  whole  Protestant  population  of  Lcinster,  Con- 
nauglit,  and  Munster.  "  Ja  n'approuve  pas  cependant  la  proposition  que 
vous  faites  de  faire  main  basse  sur  tons  les  Protestans  du  royaume,  du 
moment  qu',  en  quelque  endroit  que  ce  soit,  ils  se  scront  soulevez:  et, 
outre  que  la  punition  d'une  infinite  d'innocens  pour  peu  de  coupables  ne 
seroit  pas  juste,  d'ailleurs  les  repr^sailles  centre  les  Catholiques  seroient 
d'autant  plus  dangereuses,  que  les  premiers  se  trouveront  micux  armez  et 
soutenua  de  toutes  les  forces  d'Angleterre." 

WlUXAJkl   A^D   AUHY.  83 

Just  at  this  time  the  prospects  of  James,  which  had  seemed  chap. 
hopelessly  daik,  began  to  brighten,  llie  danger  which  had— ^^^ 
unnerved  him  had  roused  the  Irish  people.  They  had,  six 
months  before,  risen  up  as  one  man  against  the  Saxons.  The 
anuv  which  Tyrconnel  had  formed  was,  in  proportion  to  the 
population  from  which  it  was  taken,  the  largest  that  Europe 
had  ever  seen.  But  that  army  had  sustained  a  long  succession 
of  defeats  and  disgraces,  unredeemed  by  a  single  brilliant 
achievement.  It  was  the  fashion,  both  in  England  and  on  the 
Continent,  to  ascribe  those  defeats  and  disgraces  to  the  pusil- 
lanimity of  the  Irish  race.*  That  this  was  a  great  error  is 
sufficiently  proved  by  the  history  of  ever)'  war  which  has  been 
carried  on  in  any  piurt  of  Christendom  during  five  generations. 
The  raw  material  out  of  which  a  good  army  may  be  formed 
existed  in  great  abundance  among  the  Irish.  Avaux  informed 
his  government  that  they  were  a  remarkably  handsome,  tall,  and 
well  made  race;  that  they  were  personally  brave;  that  they 
were  sincerely  attached  to  the  cause  for  which  they  were  in 
arms ;  that  they  were  violently  exasperated  against  the  colo- 
nists. After  extolling  their  strength  and  spirit,  he  proceeded 
to  explain  why  it  was  that ,  with  all  their  strength  and  spirit, 
they  were  constantly  beaten.  It  was  vain,  he  said,  to  imagine 
that  bodily  prowess,  animal  courage,  or  patriotic  enthusiasm 
would,  in  the  day  of  battle,  supply  the  place  of  discipline. 
The  infantry  were  ill  armed  and  ill  trained.  They  were  suffered 
to  pillage  wherever  they  went.  They  had  contracted  all  the 
habits  of  banditti.  There  was  among  them  scarcely  one  officer 
capable  of  showing  them  their  duty.  Their  colonels  were  gene- 
rally men  of  good  family,  but  men  who  had  never  seen  service. 

•  RonqnlUo,  Aug.  i»j.,  speaking  of  the  siege  of  Londonderry,  expresses 
his  astonishment  "que  una  plaza  sin  fortificazion  y  sin  gentes  do  guerra 
aya  hocho  nna  defensa  tan  gloriosa,  y  que  los  sltiadores  al  contrario  ayau 
stdo  tan  poltroncs." 



CHAP,  The  captains  were  butchers ,  tailors,  shoemakers.    Hardly  one 


■  of  them  troubled  himself  about  the  comforts,  the  accoutrements, 
or  the  drilling  of  those  over  whom  he  was  placed.  The  dragoons 
were  little  better  than  the  infantiy.  But  the  horse  were ,  with 
some  exceptions,  excellent.  Almost  all  the  Irish  gentlemen 
who  had  any  military  experience  held  commissions  in  the 
cavalry;  and,  by  the  exertions  of  these  officers,  some  regiments 
had  been  raised  and  disciplined  which  Avaux  pronounced  equal 
to  any  that  he  had  ever  seen.  It  was  therefore  evident  that  the 
inefficiency  of  the  foot  and  of  the  dragoons  was  to  be  ascribed 
to  the  vices,  not  of  the  Irish  character,  but  of  the  Irish  ad- 

The  events  which  took  place  in  the  autumn  of  1689  suffi- 
ciently proved  that  the  ill  fated  race,  which  enemies  and  allies 
generally  agreed  in  regarding  with  unjust  contempt,  had,  to- 
gether with  the  faults  inseparable  from  poverty,  ignorance, 
and  superstition,    some  fine  qualities  which  have  not  always 

*  This  account  of  the  Irish  army  is  compiled  from  numerous  letters 
written  by  Avaux  to  Lewis  and  to  Lewis's  ministers.  I  will  quote  a  few  of 
the  most  remarkable  passages.  "Les  plus  beaux  hommes,"  Avaux  says  of 
the  Irish,  "qu'on  peut  voir.  II  n'y  en  a  presque  point  au  dessous  de  cinq 
pieds  cinq  k  six  pouces."  It  will  be  remembered  that  the  French  foot  is 
longer  than  ours.  "lis  sont  trfes  bien  fails:  mais  il  ne  sent  ny  disoiplinez 
ny  arraez,  et  de  surplus  sont  de  grands  voleurs."  "La  pliipart  de  ces  r6- 
gimens  sont  levez  par  des  gentilshommcs  qui  n'ont  jamais  ost^  h  rarmdc. 
Ce  sont  des  tailleurs,  des  bouchers,  des  cordonniers,  qui  ont  formd  les 
compagnies  et  qui  en  sont  les  Capitaines."  "Jamais  troupes  n'ont  marchrf 
comme  font  celles-cy.  Us  vont  comme  des  bandits,  etpillent  tout  ee  qu'lls 
trouvent  en  chemin."  "Quoiqu'il  soit  vrai  que  les  soldats  paroisscnt  fort 
riSsolus  k  bien  faire,  et  qu'ils  soient  fort  animez  contre  les  rebelles,  ndant- 

moins   il  no  suffit  pas  de  cela  pour  combattrc Les  officiers  subal- 

ternes  sont  mauvais,  et,  k  la  reserve  d'un  trfes  petit  nombre,  11  n'y  en  a 
point  qui  ayt  soin  des  soldats,  des  armes,  et  de  la  discipline."  "On  a  beau- 
coup  plus  de  confiance  en  la  cavalerie ,  dont  la  plus  grande  partie  est  assez 
bonne."  Avaux  mentions  several  regiments  of  horse  with  particular 
praise.  Of  two  of  these  he  says,  "On  ne  peut  voir  de  meilleur  rdgiment." 
The  correctness  of  the  opinion  which  he  had  formed  both  of  the  infantry 
and  of  the  cavalry  was,  after  his  departure  from  Ireland,  signally  proved  at 
the  Boyne. 


WXiUJAJd  AMJ   MAiir.  85 

been  found  in  more  prosperous  and  more  enlightened  com-    chap 
munities.     Tlie  evil  tidings  which   tenified  and  bewildered - 
James  stirred  the  whole  population  of  the  southern  provinces 
like  the  peal  of  a  trumpet  sounding  to  battle.    That  Ulster  was 
lost,  that  the  English  were  coming,  that  the  death  grapple 
between  the  two  hostile  nations  was  at  hand ,  was  proclaimed 
from  all  the  altars  of  three  and  twenty  counties.     One  last 
chance  was  left;  and,  if  that  chance  failed,  nothing  remained 
but  the  despotic,  the  merciless,  rule  of  the  Saxon  colony  and 
of  the  heretical  church.     The  Roman  Catholic  priest  who  had 
just  taken  possession  of  the  glebe  house  and  the  chancel,  the 
Roman  CathoUc  squire  who  had  just  been  carried  back  on  the 
shoulders  of  the  shouting  tenantry  into  the  hall  of  his  fathers, 
would  be  driven  forth  to  live  on  such  alms  as  peasants,  thenv 
selves  oppressed  and  miserable,  could  spare.     A  new  confis- 
cation would  complete  the  work  of  the  Act  of  Settlement;  and 
the  followers  of  "William  would  seize  whatever  the  followers  of 
Cromwell  had  spared.    TTiese  apprehensions  produced  such  an 
outbreak  of  patriotic  and  religious  enthusiasm  as  defen-ed  for  a 
time  the  inevitable  day  of  subjugation.    Avaux  was  amazed  by 
the  energy  which,  in  circumstances  so  trying,  the  Irish  dis- 
played.   It  was  indeed  the  wild  and  unsteady  energy  of  a  half 
barbarous  people :  it  was  transient :  it  was  often  misdirected : 
but,  though  transient  and  misdirected,  it  did  wonders.    The 
'French  Ambassador  was  forced  to  own  that  those  officers  of 
whose  incompetency  and  inactivity  he  had  so  often  complained 
had  suddenly  shaken  off  their  lethargy.     Recruits  came  in  by 
thousands.     The  ranks  which  had  been  thinned  under  the  walls 
of  Londonderry  were  soon  again  full  to  overflowing.     Great 
efforts  were  made  to  arm  and  clothe  the  troops;  and,  in  the 
short  space  of  a  fortnight,  every  thing  presented  a  new  and 
cheering  aspect  * 

*  I  will  quote  a  passage  or  two  from  the  despatches  written  at  this 


CHAP.  The  Irish  required  of  the  King,  in  return  for  their  sta-enuous 
-J  333'  exertions  in  his  cause ,  one  concession  which  was  by  no  means 
Dismis-  agreeable  to  him.  The  unpopularity  of  Melfort  had  become 
Meifort.  such,  that  his  person  was  scarcely  safe.  He  had  no  friend  to 
speak  a  word  in  his  favour.  The  French  hated  him.  In  every 
letter  which  arrived  at  Dublin  from  England  or  from  Scotland, 
he  was  described  as  the  evil  genius  of  the  House  of  Stuart.  It 
was  necessary  for  his  own  sake  to  dismiss  him.  An  honourable 
pretext  was  found.  He  was  ordered  to  repair  to  Versailles,  to 
represent  there  the  state  of  affairs  in  Ireland,  and  to  implore 
the  French  government  to  send  over  without  delay  six  or  seven 
thousand  veteran  infantry.  He  laid  down  the  seals ;  and  they 
were,  to  the  great  delight  of  the  Irish,  put  into  the  hands  of  an 
Irishman,  Sir  Richard  Nagle,  who  had  made  himself  conspi- 
cuous as  Attorney  General  and  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons. Melfort  took  his  departure  under  cover  of  the  night: 
for  the  rage  of  the  populace  against  him  was  such  that  he  could 
not  without  danger  show  himself  in  the  streets  of  Dublin  by 
day.  On  the  following  morning  James  left  his  capital  in  the 
opposite  direction  to  encounter  Schomberg.* 
Schom-  Schomberff  had  landed  in  Antrim.     The  force  which  he  had 

berg  o 

lands  in    brouffht  with  him  did  not  exceed  ten  thousand  men.     But  he 

Ulster.  ■,,•.-,,, 

expected  to  be  jomed  by  the  armed  colonists  and  by  the  regi- 
ments which  were  under  Kirke's  command.    The  coffeehouse 

time  by  Avaux.  On  September  f',.  he  says:  "De  quelqiie  cost^  qu'on  se 
tournat,  on  ne  pouvoit  ricn  prevoir  que  de  d(5sagr^able.  Mais  dans  cette 
extr^mit^  chacun  s*est  ^vertu^.  Les  officiers  ont  fait  lours  recrues  avec 
beaucoup  de  diligence."  Three  days  later  he  says:  "11  y  a  quinze  jours 
que  nous  n'esp(?riona  gubre  de  pouvoir  mettre  les  choses  en  si  bon  estat: 
mals  my  Lord  Tyrconnel  et  tous  les  Irlandais  ont  travaill€  avec  tant  d'em- 
pressement  qu'on  s'est  mis  en  estat  de  deffenae." 

•  Avaux,  Aug.  U.  :^±_|L-   ^?:4^-;  Life  of  James,  li.  373.;  Melfort'a 

^"        Sep.  4.       Sep.  5.    ' 

vindication  of  himself  among  the  Nairne  Papers.  Avaux  says:  "II  pourra 
partir  ce  soir  k  la  nuit;  car  Je  vols  bien  qu'il  apprehende  qu'il  ne  seia  pas 
Burponr  luy  de  partir  en  pleln  jour." 


politicians  of  London  fully  expected  that  such  a  general  with  chap. 
such  an  army  would  speedily  reconquer  the  island.  Unhappily  — j-g'gT^" 
it  soon  appeared  that  the  means  which  had  been  furnished  to 
him  were  altogether  inadequate  to  the  work  which  he  had  to 
perform:  of  the  greater  part  of  these  means  he  was  speedily 
deprived  by  a  succession  of  unforeseen  calamities;  and  the 
whole  campaign  was  merely  a  long  struggle  maintained 
by  his  prudence  and  resolution  against  the  utmost  spite  of 

He  marched  first  to  Carrickfergus.  That  town  was  held  for  ^"rick- 
James  by  two  regiments  of  infantry.  Schomberg  battered  the  'akcn. 
walls;  and  the  Irish,  after  holding  out  a  week,  capitulated. 
He  promised  that  they  should  depart  unharmed;  but  he  found 
it  no  easy  matter  to  keep  his  word.  The  people  of  the  town  and 
neighbourhood  were  generally  Protestants  of  Scottish  extrac- 
tion. They  had  suffered  much  dm-ing  the  short  ascendency  of 
the  native  race;  and  what  they  had  suffered  they  were  now 
eager  to  retaliate.  They  assembled  in  great  multitudes,  ex- 
claiming that  the  capitulation  was  nothing  to  them,  and  that 
they  would  be  revenged.  They  soon  proceeded  from  words  to 
blows.  The  Irish,  disarmed,  stripped,  and  hustled,  clung  for 
protection  to  the  English  officers  and  soldiers.  Schomberg 
with  difficulty  prevented  a  massacre  by  spurring ,  pistol  in 
hand,  through  the  throng  of  the  enraged  colonists.* 

From  Carrickfergus  Schomberg  proceeded  to  Lisbum ,  and 
thence,  through  towns  left  without  an  inhabitant,  and  over 
plains  on  which  not  a  cow,  nor  a  sheep,  nor  a  stack  of  com  was 
to  be  seen,  to  Loughbrickland.  Here  he  wasjoined  by  three 
regiments  of  Enniskilleners,  whose  dress,  horses,  and  arms 
looked  strange  to  eyes  accustomed  to  the  pomp  of  reviews,  but 

•  story's  Impartial  History  of  the  Wars  of  Ireland,  1693;  Life  of  James, 
il.  374.;  Avanx,  Sept.  ■,\.  1089;  Nihell's  Journal ,  printed  in  1689 ,  and  re- 
printed by  Macpherson. 


CHAP,  who  in  natural  courage  were  inferior  to  no  troops  in  the  world, 



•and   who    had,    during   months    of   constant   watching    and 

skirmishing,    acquired   many   of   the    essential    qualities    of 


sciiom-         Schomberg  continued  to  advance  towards  Dublin  through  a 

yances     dcscrt.     The  few  Irish  troops  which  remained  in  the  south  of 

ster.        Ulster  retreated  before  him,    destroying  as  they  retreated. 

Newry,  once  a  well  built  and  thriving  Protestant  borough,  he 

found  a  heap  of  smoking  ashes.     Carlingford  too  had  perished. 

The  spot  where  the  town  had  once  stood  was  marked  only  by 

the  massy  remains  of  the  old  Norman  castle.      Those  who 

ventured  to  wander  from  the  camp  reported  that  the  country,  as 

far  as  they  could  explore  it,  was  a  wilderness.    There  were 

cabins,  but  no  inmates:  there  was  rich  pasture,  but  neither 

flock  nor  herd:  there  were  cornfields;  but  the  harvest  lay  on 

the  ground  soaked  with  rain.** 

The  Eng-       While  Schombcrg  was  advancing  through  a  vast  solitude 

lisli  and       ,        ,   .   ,      „  .11  1  1.  n  i 

Irish  the  Irish  forces  were  rapidly  assemblmg  fa-om  every  quarter, 
encamp  On  the  ten4;h  of  September  the  royal  standard  of  James  was  un- 
oi'ifJr!^'^'' furled  on  the  tower  of  Drogheda;  and  beneath  it  were  soon 
collected  twenty  thousand  fighting  men ,  the  infantry  generally 
bad,  the  cavalry  generally  good,  but  both  infantry  and  cavalry 
full  of  zeal  for  their  country  and  their  religion.***  The  troops 
were  attended  as  usual  by  a  gi-eat  multitude  of  camp  followers, 
armed  with  scythes,  half  pikes,  and  skeans.  By  this  time 
Schomberg  had  reached  Dundalk.  The  distance  between  the 
two  armies  was  not  more  than  a  long  day's  march.  It  was  there- 
fore generally  expected  that  the  fate  of  the  island  would 
speedily  be  decided  by  a  pitched  battle. 

•  Story's  Impartial  History. 
•*  Ibid. 
***  Avaux,  Sep.  Jg.  1C89;  Story's  Impartial  History;  Life  of  James,  il. 
377,  378.  Orig.  Mem.     Story  and  James  agree  in  estimating  the  Irish  army 
at  about  twenty  thousand  men.    Sec  also  Dangeau  ,  Oct.  28.  1C89. 

In  both  camps,  all  who  did  not  understand  war  were  eager    chap, 
to  fight;  and,  in  both  camps,  the  few  who  had  ahigh  reputa- 


tion  for  military  science  were  against  fighting.     Neither  Koscn 

nor  Schoraberg  wished  to  put  ever)'  thing  on  a  cast.     Each  of 

them  knew  intimately  the  defects  of  his  own  army;  and  neither 

of  them  was  fully  aware  of  the  defects  of  the  other's  army. 

Rosen  was  certain  that  the  Irish  infantry  were  worse  equipped, 

worse  officered,  and  worse  drilled,  than  any  infantrj'  that  he 

had  ever  seen  from  the  Gulf  of  Bothnia  to  the  Atlantic;  and  he 

supposed  that  the  English  troops  were  well  trained,  and  were, 

as  they  doubtless  ought  to  have  been,  amply  provided  with 

every  thing  necessary  to  their  efficiency.     Numbers ,  he  rightly 

judged,  would  avail  little  against  a  great  superiority  of  arms 

and  discipline.     He  therefore  advised  James  to  fall  back ,  and 

even  to  abandon  Dublin  to  the  enemy,  rather  than  hazard  a 

battle  the  loss  of  which  would  be  the  loss  of  all.     Athlone  was 

the  best  place  in  the  kingdom  for  a  detennined  stand.     The 

passage  of  the  Shannon  might  be  defended  till  the  succours 

which  Melfort  had  been  charged  to  solicit  came  from  France; 

and  those  succours  would  change  the  whole  character  of  the 

war.     But  the  Irish,    with  Tyrconnel  at  their  head,    were 

unanimous  against  retreating.     The  blood  of  the  whole  nation 

was  up.    James  was  pleased  with  the  enthusiasm  of  his  subjects, 

and  positively  declared  that  he  would  not  disgrace  himself  by 

leaving  his  capital  to  the  invaders  without  a  blow.* 

In  a  few  days  it  became   clear  that  Schomberg  had  de-  sciioin- 
•'  °  berg  de- 

termined not  to  fight.     His  reasons  were  weighty.     He  had  ciincs  a 

some  good  Dutch  and  French  troops.  The  Enniskilleners  who 
had  joined  him  had  served  a  military  apprenticeship,  though 
not  in  a  very  regulai-  manner.  But  the  bulk  of  his  army  con- 
sisted of  EngHsh  peasants  who  had  just  left  their  cottages.    His  K""i' "' 

musketeers  had  still  to  learn  how  to  load  their  pieces:    his ''*'' Com- 

•  Life  of  James,  11.  377,  878,  Orig.  Mem. 


CHAP,  dragoons  had  still  to  learn  how  to  manage  their  horses;  and 
— jgg^^—  these  inexperienced  recruits  were  for  the  most  part  commanded 
by  officers  as  inexperienced  as  themselves.  His  troops  were 
therefore  not  generally  superior  in  discipline  to  the  Irish,  and 
were  in  number  far  inferior.  Nay,  he  found  that  his  men  were 
almost  as  ill  armed,  as  ill  lodged,  as  ill  clad,  as  the  Celts  to 
whom  they  were  opposed.  The  wealth  of  the  English  nation 
and  the  liberal  votes  of  the  English  parliament  had  entitled 
him  to  expect  that  he  should  be  abundantly  supplied  with  all 
the  munitions  of  war.  But  he  was  cruelly  disappointed.  The 
administration  had,  ever  since  the  death  of  Oliver,  been  con- 
stantly becoming  more  and  more  imbecile,  more  and  more  cor- 
rupt; and  now  the  Revolution  reaped  what  the  Restoration  had 
sovm.  A  crowd  of  negligent  or  ravenous  functionaries,  formed 
under  Charles  and  James,  plundered,  starved,  and  poisoned 
the  armies  and  fleets  of  William.  Of  these  men  the  most  im- 
portant was  Henry  Shales,  who,  in  the  late  reign,  had  been 
Commissary  General  to  the  camp  at  Hounslow.  It  is  difficult 
to  blame  the  new  government  for  continuing  to  employ  him: 
for,  in  his  own  department,  his  experience  far  surpassed  that 
of  any  other  Englishman.  Unfortunately,  in  the  same  school 
in  which  he  had  acquired  his  experience,  he  had  learaed  the 
whole  art  of  peculation.  The  beef  and  brandy  which  he  fur- 
nished were  so  bad  that  the  soldiei's  turned  from  them  with 
loathing:  the  tents  were  rotten:  the  clothing  was  scanty:  the 
muskets  broke  in  the  handling.  Great  numbers  of  shoes  were 
set  down  to  the  account  of  the  government:  but,  two  months 
after  the  Treasury  had  paid  the  bill,  the  shoes  had  not  an-ived 
in  Ireland.  The  means  of  transporting  baggage  and  artillery 
were  almost  entirely  wanting.  An  ample  number  of  horses  had 
been  piirchased  in  England  with  the  public  money,  and  had 
been  sent  to  the  banks  of  the  Dee.  But  Shales  had  let  them 
out  for  harvest  work  to  the  farmers  of  Cheshu-e,  had  pocketed 


the  hire,  and  had  left  the  troops  in  Ulster  to  get  on  as  they  best  cn*p. 
might.*  Schomherg  thought  that,  if  he  should,  with  an  iH  — y^^T" 
trained  and  ill  appointed  army,  risk  a  battle  against  a  superior 
force,  he  might  not  improbably  be  defeated;  and  he  knew  that 
a  defeat  might  be  followed  by  the  loss  of  one  kingdom,  perhaps 
by  the  loss  of  three  kingdoms.  He  therefore  made  up  his  mind 
to  stand  on  the  defensive  till  his  men  had  been  disciplined,  and 
till  reinforcements  and  supplies  should  arrive. 

He  entrenched  himself  near  Dundalk  in  such  a  manner  that 
he  could  not  be  forced  to  fight  against  his  will.  James,  em- 
boldened by  the  caution  of  his  adversary,  and  disregarding  the 
advice  of  llosen,  advanoed  toArdee,  appeared  at  the  head  of 
the  whole  Irish  army  before  the  English  lines,  drew  up  horse, 
foot  and  artillery,  in  order  of  battle,  and  displayed  his  banner. 
The  English  were  impatient  to  fall  on.  But  their  general  had 
made  up  his  mind,  and  was  not  to  be  moved  by  the  bravadoes 
of  the  enemy  or  by  the  murmurs  of  his  o^vn  soldiers.  During 
some  weeks  he  remained  secure  within  his  defences,  while  the 
Irish  lay  a  few  miles  off.  He  set  himself  assiduously  to  drill 
those  new  levies  which  formed  the  greater  part  of  his  army.  He 
ordered  the  musketeers  to  be  constantly  exercised  in  firing, 
sometimes  at  marks  and  sometimes  by  platoons ;  and ,  from  the 
way  in  which  they  at  first  acquitted  themselves,  it  plainly  ap- 
peai-ed  that  he  had  judged  wisely  in  not  leading  them  out  to 
battle.  It  was  found  that  not  one  in  four  of  the  English  soldiers 
coidd  manage  his  piece  at  all;  and  whoever  succeeded  in  dis- 
charging it,  no  matter  in  what  direction,  thought  that  he  had 
performed  a  groat  feat. 

A\Tiile  the  Duke  was  thus  employed,  the  Irish  eyed  his  camp  Conspi- 
without  daring  to  attack  it.  ButAvithin  that  camp  soon  appeared  aming 
two  exih  more  terrible  than  the  foe,  treason  and  pestilence,  preoch 

•  Sec  Grey's  Debates,  Nov.  26,  27,  28.  16S9,  nnd  the  Dialogue  be- 
tween a  Lord  Lieutenant  and  one  of  hia  deputies,  1692. 


CHAP.  Among  the  best  troops  under  his  command  were  the  French 


•■^ggg'  ■  exiles.  And  now  a  grave  doubt  arose  touching  their  fidelity, 
troops  in  The  real  Huguenot  refugee  indeed  might  safely  be  trusted.  The 
ifsh  set-*  dislike  with  which  the  most  zealous  English  Protestant  regarded 
^'""  the  House  of  Bourbon  and  the  Church  of  Rome  was  a  lukewarm 
feeling  when  compared  with  that  inextinguishable  hatred  which 
glowed  in  the  bosom  of  the  persecuted,  dragooned,  expatriated 
Calvinist  ofLanguedoc.  The  Irish  had  already  remarked  that 
the  French  heretic  neither  gave  nor  took  quarter.*  Now ,  how- 
ever, it  was  found  that  with  those  emigrants  who  had  sacrificed 
every  thing  for  the  reformed  religion  were  intermingled  emi- 
grants of  a  very  different  sort,  deserters  who  had  run  away  from 
their  standards  in  the  Low  Countries,  and  had  coloured  their 
crime  by  pretending  that  they  were  Protestants ,  and  that  their 
conscience  would  not  suffer  them  to  fight  for  the  persecutor  oi 
their  Church.  Some  of  these  men ,  hoping  that  by  a  second 
treason  they  might  obtain  both  pardon  and  reward,  opened  a 
correspondence  with  Avaux.  The  letters  were  intercepted ;  and 
a  formidable  plot  was  brought  to  light.  It  appeared  that,  if 
Schomberg  had  been  weak  enough  to  yield  to  the  importunity 
of  those  who  wished  him  to  give  battle,  several  French  com- 
panies would,  in  the  heat  of  the  action,  have  fired  on  the 
English ,  and  gone  over  to  the  enemy.  Such  a  defection  might 
well  have  produced  a  general  panic  in  a  better  army  than  that 
which  was  encamped  under  Dundalk.  It  was  necessary  to  be 
severe.  Six  of  the  conspirators  were  hanged.  Two  hundred  of 
their  accomplices  were  sent  in  irons  to  England.  Even  after  this 
winnowing ,  the  refugees  were  long  regarded  by  the  rest  of  the 
army  with  unjust  but  not  unnatural  suspicion.  During  some 
days  indeed  there  was  great  reason  to  fear  that  the  enemy  would 

•  Nihell's  Journal.  A  French  officer,  In  a  letter  to  Avaux,  written 
soon  after  Schomberg's  landing,  says,  "Leg  Huguenots  font  plus  de  mal 
que  Ics  Anglois,  et  tuent  force  Catholiques  pour  avoir  fait  resistance." 


be  entertained  with  a  bloody  fight  between  the  English  soldiers    niAP. 
and  their  French  allies.* 



A  few  hours  before  the  execution  of  the  chief  conspirators,  a  peui- 
general  muster  of  the  army  was  held ;  and  it  was  obser\'ed  that  uirKn  "- 
the  ranks  of  the  English  battahons  looked  thin.  From  the  first ""''  ""''• 
day  of  the  campaign,  there  had  been  much  sickness  among  the 
recruits:  but  it  was  not  till  the  time  of  the  equinox  that  the 
mortaUty  became  alarming.  The  autumnal  rains  of  Ireland  are 
usually  hea\7 ;  and  this  year  they  were  heavier  than  usual.  The 
whole  country  was  deluged;  and  the  Duke's  camp  became  a 
marsh.  The  Enniskillen  men  were  seasoned  to  the  climate. 
The  Dutch  were  accustomed  to  live  in  a  countiy  which,  as  a  wit 
of  that  age  said,  draws  fifty  feet  of  water.  They  kept  their  huts 
dry  and  clean;  and  they  had  experienced  and  careful  officers 
who  did  not  suffer  them  to  omit  any  precaution.  But  the  pea- 
sants of  Yorkshire  and  Derbyshire  had  neither  constitutions 
prepared  to  resist  the  pernicious  influence,  nor  skill  to  protect 
themselves  against  it.  The  bad  provisions  fui'nished  by  the 
Commissariat  aggravated  the  maladies  generated  by  the  air. 
Remedies  were  almost  entirely  wanting.  The  surgeons  were 
few.  The  medicine  chests  contained  little  more  than  lint  and 
plaisters  for  wounds.  The  English  sickened  and  died  by  hun- 
dreds. Even  those  who  were  not  smitten  by  the  pestilence  were 
unnerved  and  dejected,  and,  instead  of  putting  forth  the  energy 
which  is  the  heritage  of  our  race,  awaited  their  fate  with  the 
helpless  apathy  of  Asiatics.  It  was  in  vain  that  Schomberg  tried 
to  teach  them  to  improve  their  habitations,  and  to  cover  the  wet 
earth  on  which  they  lay  with  a  thick  carpet  of  fern.  Exertion 
had  become  more  dreadful  to  them  than  death.     It  was  not  to 

•  Story;  Narrative  transmitted  by  Avaux  to  Scicncl.iy,  -„    '     '"   16S9; 

^  "^        Dee.  6. 

London  Gazette,  Oct.  14.  1C89.  It  is  curious  that,  tliough  Uuiiiont  was  Id 
the  camp  before  Dundnlk,  there  l8  in  his  MS.  no  mention  of  the  conspiracy 
among  the  French. 


CHAP,  be  expected  that  men  who  would  not  help  themselves  should 
-,ggg"-'  help  each  other.  Nobody  asked  and  nobody  showed  compas- 
sion. Familiarity  with  ghastly  spectacles  produced  a  hard- 
heartedness  and  a  desperate  impiety,  of  which  an  example  wUl 
not  easily  be  found  even  in  the  history  of  infectious  diseases. 
The  moans  of  the  sick  were  drowned  by  the  blasphemy  and 
ribaldry  of  their  comrades.  Sometimes,  seated  on  the  body  of 
a  wretch  who  had  died  in  the  morning,  might  be  seen  a  wretch 
destined  to  die  before  night,  cursing,  singing  loose  songs,  and 
swallowing  usquebaugh  to  the  health  of  the  devil.  When  the 
corjjses  were  taken  away  to  be  buried  the  survivors  grumbled. 
A  dead  man,  they  said,  was  a  good  screen  and  a  good  stool. 
Why,  when  there  was  so  abundant  a  supply  of  such  useful 
articles  of  furniture ,  were  people  to  be  exposed  to  the  cold  air 
and  forced  to  crouch  on  the  moist  ground?  * 

Many  of  the  sick  were  sent  by  the  English  vessels  which  lay 
off  the  coast  to  Belfast,  where  a  great  hospital  had  been  pre- 
pared. But  scarce  half  of  them  lived  to  the  end  of  the  voyage. 
More  than  one  ship  lay  long  in  the  bay  of  Carrickfergus  heaped 
with  carcasses,  and  exhaling  the  stench  of  death,  without  a 
living  man  on  board.** 

The  Irish  army  suffered  much  less.  The  kerne  of  Munster 
or  Connaught  was  quite  as  well  off  in  the  camp  as  if  he  had  been 
in  his  own  mud  cabin  inhaling  the  vapours  of  his  own  quag- 
mire. He  naturally  exulted  in  the  distress  of  the  Saxon  here- 
tics, and  flattered  himself  that  they  would  be  destroyed  without 
a  blow.  He  heard  with  delight  the  guns  pealing  all  day  over 
the  graves  of  the  English  officers,  till  at  length  the  funerals' 
became  too  numerous  to  be  celebrated  with  military  pomp,  and 

*  story's  Impartial  History,  Dumont  MS.     The  profaneness  and  dis- 
soluteness of  the  camp  during  the  sickness  are  mentioned  in  many  coa- 
tem])orary  pamphlets  both  in  verso  and  prose.     See  particularly  a  Satire 
entitled  Reformation  of  Manners ,  part  il. 
*•  Story's  Impartial  History. 



the  mournful  sounds  were  succeeded  by  a  silence  more  mourn-   cii\p. 
ful  still.  -'"■ 

The  superiority  of  force  was  now  so  decidedly  on  the  side  of 
James  that  he  could  safely  venture  to  detach  five  regiments 
from  his  army,  and  to  send  them  into  Connaught.  Sarsfield 
commanded  them.  He  did  not,  indeed,  stand  sa  high  as  he 
deserved  in  the  royal  estimation.  The  King,  with  an  air  of 
intellectual  superiority  which  must  have  made  Avaux  and 
Rosen  bite  their  lips,  pronounced  him  a  brave  fellow,  but  very 
scantily  supplied  with  brains.  It  was  not  without  great  dif- 
ficulty that  the  Ambassador  prevailed  on  His  Majesty  to  raise 
the  best  officer  in  the  Irish  army  to  the  rank  of  Brigadier. 
Sarsfield  now  fully  vindicated  the  favourable  opinion  which  his 
French  patrons  had  fomied  of  him.  He  dislodged  the  English 
fi-om  Sligo;  and  he  effectually  secured  Galway,  which  had 
been  in  considerable  danger.* 

No  attack,  however,  was  made  on  the  English  entrench- 
ments before  Dundalk.  In  the  midst  of  difficulties  and  disasters 
hourly  multiplpng ,  the  great  quahties  of  Schomberg  appeared 
hourly  more  and  more  conspicuous.  Not  in  the  full  tide  of 
success,  not  on  the  field  of  Montes  Claros,  not  under  the  walls 
ofMaestricht,  had  he  so  well  deserved  the  admiration  of  man- 
kind. His  resolution  never  gave  way.  His  prudence  never 
slept.  His  temper,  Ln  spite  of  manifold  vexations  and  provo- 
cations, was  always  cheerful  and  serene.  The  effective  men 
under  his  command,  even  if  all  were  reckoned  as  effective  who 
were  not  stretched  on  the  earth  by  fever,  did  not  now  exceed 
five  thousand.  These  were  hardly  equal  to  their  ordinary  duty ; 
and  yet  it  was  necessary  to  harass  them  with  double  duty. 
Nevertheless  so  masterly  were  the  old  man's  dispositions  that 
with  this  small  force  he  faced  during  several  weeks  twenty 

•  Avaux,   Oct.  {\.  Nov.  JJ.  1689;   Story's  Impartial  Hlatory;  Life  of 
James,  U.  383,  383.  Orig.  Mem.;  NihcU's  Journal. 

IIUC3  go 




96  HTSTnET    Of  TTNGT.Atn). 

CHAP,  thousand  troops  •who  were  accompanied  by  a  multitude  of 
"  1689.  armed  banditti.  At  length  early  in  November  the  Irish  dis- 
The  Eng-  perscd,  and  went  to  winter  quarters.  The  Duke  then  broke 
Irish  ar-  up  his  camp  and  retired  into  Ulster.  Just  as  the  remains  of  his 
army  were  about  to  move,  a  nmiour  spread  that  the  enemy 
was  approaching  in  great  force.  Had  this  rumour  been  true, 
the  danger  would  have  been  extreme.  But  the  English  regi- 
ments, though  they  had  been  reduced  to  a  third  part  of  their 
complement,  and  though  the  men  who  were  in  best  health 
were  hardly  able  to  shoulder  arms,  showed  a  strange  joy  and 
alacrity  at  the  prospect  of  battle,  and  swore  that  the  Papists 
should  pay  for  all  the  misery  of  the  last  month.  "We  Eng- 
lish," Schomberg  said,  identifying  himself  goodhumouredly 
with  the  people  of  the  countrj'  which  had  adopted  him,  "we 
English  have  stomach  enough  for  fighting.  It  is  a  pity  that 
we  are  not  as  fond  of  some  other  parts  of  a  soldier's  business." 

The  alarm  proved  false:  the  Dukes  army  departed  im- 
molested:  but  the  highway  along  which  he  retired  presented  a 
piteous  and  hideous  spectacle.  A  long  train  of  waggons  laden 
with  the  sick  jolted  over  the  nigged  pavement.  At  every  jolt 
some  wretched  man  gave  up  the  ghost.  The  corpse  was  flung 
out  and  left  unburied  to  the  foxes  and  crows.  The  whole 
number  of  those  who  died,  in  the  camp  at  Dundalk,  in  the 
hospital  at  Belfast,  on  the  road,  and  on  the  sea,  amounted  to 
above  six  thousand.  The  survivors  were  quartered  for  the 
winter  in  the  towns  and  villages  of  Ulster.  The  general  fixed 
his  head  quarters  at  Lisburn.* 

•  story's  Impartial  Ilistory;  Schomberg's Despatches;  Nihell's  Journal, 
and  James'E  Life ;  Burnet,  ii.30.;  Dangcau's  journal  during  this  autumn; 
the  Narrative  sent  by  Avaux  to  Scignelay,  and  the  Dumont  MS.  Tlie  lying 
of  the  London  Gazette  Is  monstrous.  Tlirough  the  whole  autumn  tlie  troops 
are  constantly  said  to  be  in  good  condition.  In  the  absurd  drama  entitled 
the  Royal  Voyage,  which  was  acted  for  tlie  amusement  of  the  rabble  of 
London  in  1689,  the  Irish  are  represented  as  attacking  some  of  the  sick 

wtilta:^!  axd  makt.  97 

His  conduct  was  variously  judged.     "Wise  and  candid  men    chap, 
said  that  he  had  surpassed  himself,  and  that  there  was  no  other  — V~i^^ 

'  '  1689. 

cajitaiu  in  Europe  who,  with  raw  troops,  with  ignorant  officers,  varioui 
with  scanty  stores,  having  to  contend  at  once  against  a  hostile  °bo'ut"" 
army  of  greatly  superior  force,  against  a  villanous  commis- ^'J^™' 
sariat,  against  a  of  traitors  in  his  own  camp,  and  against  <^'""'""^'' 
a  disease  more  murderous  than  the  sword,  would  have  brought 
the  campaign  to  a  close  without  the  loss  of  a  flag  or  a  gun. 
On  the  other  hand,  many  of  those  newly  commissioned  majors 
and  captains,  whose  helplessness  had  increased  all  his  per- 
plexities, and  who  had  not  one  qualification  for  their  posts  ex- 
cept personal  courage,  grumbled  at  the  skill  and  patience 
which  had  saved  them  from  destruction.  Their  complaints 
were  echoed  on  the  other  side  of  Saint  George's  Channel. 
Some  of  the  murmuring,  though  unjust,  was  excusable.  The 
parents,  who  had  sent  a  gallant  lad,  in  his  first  uniform,  to 
fight  his  way  to  glorj',  might  be  pardoned  if,  when  they  learned 
that  he  had  died  on  a  wisp  of  straw  without  medical  attendance, 
and  had  been  buried  in  a  swamp  without  any  Christian  or  mi- 
litaiy  ceremony,  their  affliction  made  them  hasty  and  un- 
reasonable. But  with  the  crj'  of  bereaved  families  was  mingled 
another  crj'  much  less  respectable.  All  the  hearers  and  tellers 
of  news  abused  the  general  who  furnished  them  ■with  so  little 
news  to  hear  and  to  tell.  For  men  of  that  sort  are  so  greedy 
after  excitement  that  they  far  more  readily  forgive  a  com- 
mander who  loses  a  battle  than  a  commander  who  declines  one. 
The  politicians,  who  delivered  their  oracles  from  the  thickest 
cloud  of  tobacco  smoke  at  GaiToway's,  confidently  asked, 
without  knowing  any  thing,  either  of  war  in  general,  or  of  Irish 
war  in  particular,  why  Schomberg  did  not  fight.  They  could 
not  venture  to  say  that  he  did  not  understand  his  calling.    No 

English.    The  English  pat  the  assailants  to  the  root,  and  then  drop  down 

Uacaulay,  llislory.  V.  7 

98  mSl'ORT  OF  ENGLAND. 

CHAP,  doubt  he  had  been  an  excellent  officer:  but  he  was  very  old. 



He  seemed  to  bear  his  years  well:  but  his  faculties  were  not 
what  they  had  been:  his  memory  was  failing;  and  it  was  well 
known  that  he  sometimes  forgot  in  the  afternoon  what  he  had 
done  in  the  moniing.  It  may  be  dsubted  whether  there  ever 
existed  a  human  being  whose  mind  was  quite  as  firmly  toned  at 
eighty  as  at  forty.  But  that  Schomberg's  intellectual  powers 
had  been  little  impaired  by  years  is  sufficiently  proved  by  his 
despatches,  which  are  still  extant,  and  which  are  models  of 
official  writing,  terse,  perspicuous,  full  of  important  facts  and 
weighty  reasons,  compressed  into  the  smallest  possible  number 
of  words.  In  those  despatches  he  sometimes  alluded,  not 
angrily,  but  with  calm  disdain,  to  the  censures  thrown  upon 
his  conduct  by  shallow  babblers,  who,  never  having  seen  any 
military  operation  more  important  than  the  relieving  of  the 
guard  at  Wh:tehall,  imagined  that  the  easiest  thing  in  the 
world  was  to  gain  great  victories  in  any  situation  and  against 
any  odds,  and  by  sturdy  patriots  who  were  convinced  that  one 
English  carter  or  thresher,  who  had  not  yet  learned  how  to 
load  a  gun  or  port  a  pike ,  was  a  match  for  any  five  musketeers 
of  King  Lewis's  household.* 
Maritime  Unsatisfactory  as  had  been  the  results  of  the  campaign  in 
Ireland,  the  results  of  the  maritime  operations  of  the  year  were 
more  unsatisfactory  still.  It  had  been  confidently  expected 
that,  on  the  sea,  England,  allied  with  Holland,  would  have 
been  far  more  than  a  match  for  the  power  of  Lewis:  but 
every  thing  went  wrong.  Herbert  had,  after  the  unimportant 
skirmish  of  Bantry  Bay,  returned  with  his  squadron  to  Ports- 
mouth. There  he  found  that  he  had  not  lost  the  good  opinion 
either  of  the  public  or  of  the  government.  The  House  of  Com- 
mons thanked  him  for  his  services;  and  he  received  signal 
marks  of  the  favour  of  the  Crown.  He  had  not  been  at  the 
*  See  his  despatchcg  in  the  appendix  to  Dalrymple's  Memoirs. 

WILLIAM   AUD   HAQ7.  99 

coronation,  and  had  therefore  missed  his  share  of  the  rewards  chap. 
which,  at  the  time  of  that  solemnity,  had  been  distributed  ■  ^^^^'  ■ 
among  the  chief  agents  in  the  Revolution.  The  omission  was 
now  repaired;  and  he  was  created  Earl  of  Torrington.  Tlie 
King  went  down  to  Portsmouth,  dined  on  board  of  the  Ad- 
miral's flag  ship,  expressed  the  fullest  confidence  in  the  valour 
and  loyalty  of  the  navy,  knighted  two  gallant  captains,  Cloudes- 
ley  Shovel  and  John  Ashby,  and  ordered  a  donative  to  be  di- 
vided among  the  seamen.* 

AVe  cannot  justly  blame  William  for  having  a  high  opinion  ^'.^'xili'- 
of  Torrington.  For  Torrington  was  generally  regarded  as  one  of  lor- 
of  the  bravest  and  most  skilful  officers  in  the  navy.  He  had  been 
promoted  to  the  rank  of  Rear  Admu'al  of  England  by  James, 
who,  if  he  understood  anything,  imderstood  maritime  affairs. 
That  place  and  other  lucrative  places  Torrington  had  relin- 
quished when  he  found  that  he  could  retain  them  only  by  sub- 
mitting to  be  a  tool  of  the  Jesuitical  cabal.  No  man  had  taken 
a  more  active,  a  more  hazardous,  or  a  more  useful  part  in  effect- 
ing the  Revolution.  It  seemed,  therefore,  that  no  man  had 
fairer  pretensions  to  be  put  at  the  head  of  the  naval  administra- 
tion. Yet  no  man  could  be  more  unfit  for  such  a  post.  His 
morals  had  always  been  loose,  so  loose  indeed  that  the  firmness 
with  which  in  the  late  reign  he  had  adhered  to  his  religion  had 
excited  much  surprise.  His  glorious  disgrace  Indeed  seemed  to 
have  produced  a  salutary  effect  on  his  character.  In  poverty 
and  exile  he  rose  from  a  voluptuary  into  a  hero.  But,  as  soon 
as  pitosperity  returned,  the  hero  sank  again  into  a  voluptuary; 
and  the  lapse  was  deep  and  hopeless.  The  nerves  of  his  mind, 
which  had  been  during  a  short  time  braced  to  a  firm  tone ,  were 
now  so  much  relaxed  by  vice  that  he  was  utterly  incapable  of 
selfdenial  or  of  strenuous  exertion.  The  vulgar  courage  of  a 
foremast  man  he  still  retained.     But  both  as  Admiral  and  as 

•  London  Gazette,  May  20.  1G8D. 




CHAP    First  Lord  of  the  Admiralty  he  Tvas  utterly  inefficient.    Month 
XIV-  _  after  month  the  fleet  which  should  have  been  the  terror  of  the 
seas  lay  in  harbour  while  he  was  diverting  himself  in  London. 
The  sailors,  punning  upon  his  new  title,  gave  him  the  name  of 
Lord  Tarry-in-town.    When  he  came  on  shipboard  he  was  ac- 
companied by  a  bevy  of  courtesans.    There  was  scarcely  an 
hour  of  the  day  or  of  the  night  when  he  was  not  under  the  m- 
fluence  of  claret.    Being  insatiable  of  pleasure ,  he  necessarily 
became  insatiable  of  wealth.    Yet  he  loved  flattery  almost  as 
much  as  either  wealth  or  pleasure.    He  had  long  been  m  the 
habit  of  exacting  the  most  abject  homage  from  those  who  were 
under  his  command.     His  flag  ship  was  a  little  Versailles.    He 
expected  his  captains  to  attend  him  to  his  cabin  when  he  went 
to  bed,  and  to  assemble  every  morning  at  his  levee.    He  even 
suffered  them  to  dress  him.     One  of  them  combed  his  flowing 
wi-;   another  stood  ready  with  the  embroidered  coat.     Under 
such  a  chief  there  could  be  no  discipline.    His  tars  passed  their 
time  in  rioting  among  the  rabble  of  Portsmouth.    Those  officers 
who  won  his  favoui-  by  servility  and  adulation  easily  obtamed 
leave  of  absence,  and  spent  weeks  in  London,  revellmg  in 
taverns,  scouring  the  streets,  or  making  love  to  the  masked 
ladies  in  the  pit  of  the  theatre.    The  victuallers  soon  found  out 
with  whom  they  had  to  deal,  and  sent  down  to  the  fleet  casks  of 
meat  which  dogs  would  not  touch,  and  barrels  of  beer  which 
smelt  worse  than  bilge  water.     Meanwhile  the  British  Channel 
seemed  to  be  abandoned  to  French  rovers.     Our  merchantmen 
were  boarded  m  sight  of  the  ramparts  of  Plymouth.    The  sugar 
fleet  from  the  West  Indies  lost  seven  ships.    The  whole  value 
of  the  prizes  taken  by  the  cruisers  of  the  enemy  in  the  imme- 
diate neighbourhood  of  om-  island,  while  Torrington  was  en* 
ga-ed  with  his  bottle  and  his  harem,  was  estimated  at  six  hun- 
dred thousand  pounds.     So  difficult  was  it  to  obtain  the  convoy 
of  a  man  of  war,  except  by  givmg  immense  bribes,  that  our 


traders  were  forced  to  hire  the  8er\-ices  of  Dutch  privateers,  and    chap. 
found  these  foreit'n  mercenaries  much  more  useful  and  much 

less  greedy  than  the  officers  of  our  own  royal  navy.* 

The  only  department  with  which  no  fault  could  be  found  was  Comi- 
the  department  of  Foreign  Affairs.  There  William  was  his  own  aiiairs, 
minister;  and,  where  he  was  his  own  minister,  there  were  no 
delays,  no  blunders,  no  jobs,  no  treasons.  The  difficulties 
with  which  he  had  to  contend  were  indeed  great.  Even  at  the 
Hague  he  had  to  encounter  an  opposition  which  all  his  wisdom 
and  firmness  could,  with  the  strenuous  support  of  Heinsius, 
scarcely  overcome.  The  English  were  not  aware  that,  while 
they  were  murmm-ing  at  their  Sovereign's  partiality  for  the  land 
of  his  birth,  a  strong  party  in  Holland  was  murmuring  at  his 
partiality  for  the  land  of  his  adoption.  The  Dutch  ambassadors 
at  Westminster  complained  that  the  terms  of  alliance  which  he 
proposed  were  derogatory  to  the  dignity  and  prejudicial  to  the 
interests  of  the  republic;  that  wherever  the  honour  of  the  Eng- 
lish flag  was  concerned,  he  was  punctilious  and  obstinate ;  that 
he  peremptorily  insisted  on  an  article  which  interdicted  all 
trade  with  France,  and  which  could  not  but  be  grievously  felt 
on  the  Exchange  of  Amsterdam;  that,  when  they  expressed  a 
hope  that  the  Navigation  Act  would  be  repealed,  he  burst  out 
a  laughing ,  and  told  them  that  the  thing  was  not  to  be  thought 
of.  He  carried  all  his  points ;  and  a  solemn  contract  was  made 
by  which  England  and  the  Batavian  federation  bound  them- 
selves to  stand  firmly  by  each  other  against  France,  and  not  to 
make  peace  except  by  mutual  consent.  But  one  of  the  Dutch 
plenipotentiaries  declared  that  he  was  afraid  of  being  one  day 
held  up  to  obloquy  as  a  traitor  for  conceding  so  much ;  and  the 

•  Commons'  Journals,  Nov.  13.  23.  1689;  Grey's  Debates,  Nov.  13.  14. 
18.  23.  1689.  See,  among  numerous  pasquinades,  the  Parable  of  the 
Bearbaltin^,  Reformation  of  Manners,  a  Satire,  the  Mock  Mourners,  a  Satire. 
8co  also  Pepys's  Diary  kept  at  Tangier,  Oct.  15.  1683. 


CHAP,  signature  of  another  plainly  appeared  to  have  been  traced  by  a 
_I?lu-  tand  shaking  with  emotion.* 

Meanwhile  under  William's  skUful  management  a  treaty  of 
alliance  had  been  concluded  between  the  States  General  and 
the  Emperor.  To  that  treaty  Spain  and  England  gave  m  then: 
adhesion;  and  thus  the  four  great  powers  which  had  long  been 
bound  together  by  a  friendly  understanding  were  bound  to- 
gether by  a  formal  contract.** 

But  before  that  formal  contract  had  been  signed  and  sealed, 
all  the  contracting  parties  were  in  arms.    Early  in  the  year  1689 
war  was  raging  all  over  the  Continent  from  the  Hsemus  to  the 
rvrenees.    France,  attacked  at  once  on  every  side,  made  on 
every  side  a  vigorous  defence;  and  her  Turkish  allies  kept  a 
great  German  force  fully  employed  in  Servia  and  Bulgaria.    On 
the  whole,  the  results  of  the  miUtary  operations  of  the  summer 
we   not   unfavourable   to   the   confederates.     Beyond  the 
Danube,  the  Christians ,  under  Prince  Lewis  of  Baden,  gamed 
a  succession  of  victories  over  the  Mussulmans.     In  the  passes  of 
RoussiUon,  the  French  troops  contended  without  any  decisive 
advantage  against  the  martial  peasantry  of  Catalonia.     One 
German  army,  led  by  the  Elector  of  Bavaria,  occupied  the 
Archbishopric    of   Cologne.     Another    was    commanded    by 
Charles,  Duke  of  Lorraine,  a  sovereign  who,  driven  from  his 
own  dominions  by  the  arms  of  France,  had  turned  soldier  of 
fortune,  and  had,  as  such,  obtained  both  distinction  and  re- 
venge.   He  marched  against  the  devastators  of  the  Palatmate, 
forced  them  to  retire  behind  the  Rhine,  and,  after  a  long  siege, 
took  the  important  and  strongly  fortified  city  of  Mentz. 

May  12.  1689.    It  wiU  be  found  in  Dnroonfs  Corps  Diplomatique. 


Between  theSambre  and  UieMeuse  the  French,  commanded  chap. 
by  Marshal  Humiercs,  were  opposed  to  the  Dutch,  commanded  —y^^^'  - 
by  the  Prince  of  Waldeck,  an  officer  who  had  long  served  the 
States  General  with  fidelity  and  ability,  though  not  always  with 
good  fortune,  and  who  stood  high  in  the  estimation  of  William. 
Under  Waldeck's  orders  was  Marlborough,  to  whom  "William 
had  confided  an  English  brigade  consisting  of  the  best  re- 
giments of  the  old  army  of  James.  Second  to  Marlborough  in 
command,  and  second  also  in  professional  skill,  was  Thomas 
Talmash,  a  brave  soldier,  destined  to  a  fate  never  to  be 
mentioned  without  shame  and  indignation.  Between  the  army 
of  WaWeck  and  the  army  of  Humieres  no  general  action  took 
place :  but  in  a  succession  of  combats  the  advantage  was  on  the 
side  of  the  confederates.  Of  these  combats  the  most  important  skirmuh 
took  place  at  AValcourt  on  the  fifth  of  August.  The  French  conn, 
attacked  an  outpost  defended  by  the  English  brigade,  were 
vigorously  repulsed,  and  were  forced  to  retreat  in  confusion, 
abandoning  a  few  field  pieces  to  the  conquerors  and  leaving 
more  than  six  hundred  coq)ses  on  the  ground.  Marlborough, 
on  this  as  on  every  similar  occasion,  acquitted  himself  like  a 
valiant  and  skilful  captain.  The  Coldstream  Guards  com- 
manded by  Talmash,  and  the  regiment  which  is  now  called  the 
sixteenth  of  the  line,  commanded  by  Colonel  Robert  Hodges, 
distinguished  themselves  highly.  The  Royal  regiment  too, 
which  had  a  few  months  before  set  up  the  standard  of  rebellion 
at  Ipswich,  proved  on  this  day  that  "William,  in  freely  pardoning 
that  great  fault,  had  acted  not  less  wisely  than  generously. 
The  testimony  which  "Waldeck  in  his  despatch  bore  to  the 
gallant  conduct  of  the  islanders  was  read  with  delight  by  their 
countrjTnen.  The  fight  indeed  was  no  more  than  a  skirmish: 
but  it  was  a  sharp  and  bloody  skirmish.  There  had  ■within 
living  memory  been  no  equally  serious  encounter  between  the 
English  and  French;  and  our  ancestors  were  naturally  elated 


CHAP,  by  finding  that  many  years  of  inaction  and  vassalage  did  not 
■^ggg"  ■  appear  to  have  enervated  the  courage  of  the  nation* 
impu-  The  Jacobites  however  discovered  in  the  events  of  the 

thro'wn  Campaign  abundant  matter  for  invective.  Marlborough  M'as, 
borough"  not  without  reason,  the  object  of  their  bitterest  hatred.  In  his 
behaviour  on  a  field  of  battle  malice  itself  could  find  little  to 
censure :  but  there  were  other  parts  of  his  conduct  which  pre- 
sented a  fair  mark  for  obloquy.  Avarice  is  rarely  the  vice  of  a 
young  man:  it  is  rarely  the  vice  of  a  great  man:  but  Marl- 
borough was  one  of  the  few  who  have,  in  the  bloom  of  youth, 
loved  lucre  more  than  wine  or  women,  and  who  have,  at  the 
height  of  greatness,  loved  lucre  more  than  power  or  fame.  All 
the  precious  gifts  which  nature  had  lavished  on  him  he  valued 
chiefly  for  what  they  would  fetch.  At  twenty  he  made  money 
of  his  beauty  and  his  vigour.  At  sixty  he  made  money  of  his 
genius  and  his  glory.  The  applauses  which  were  justly  due  to 
his  conduct  at  Walcourt  could  not  altogether  drown  the  voices 
of  those  who  muttered  that,  wherever  a  broad  piece  was  to  be 
saved  or  got,  this  hero  was  a  mereEuclio,  a  mere  Harpagon; 
that,  though  he  drew  a  large  allowance  under  pretence  of 
keeping  a  public  table,  he  never  asked  an  officer  to  dinner; 
that  his  muster  rolls  were  fraudulently  made  up;  that  he 
pocketed  pay  in  the  names  of  men  who  had  long  been  dead,  of 
men  who  had  been  killed  in  his  own  sight  four  years  before  at 
Sedgemoor;  that  there  were  twenty  such  names  in  one  troop; 
that  there  were  thirty  six  in  another.  Nothing  but  the  union  of 
dauntless  courage  and  commanding  powers  of  mind  with  a 
bland  temper  and  winning  manners  could  have  enabled  him  to 
gain  and  keep,  in  spite  of  faults  eminently  unsoldierlike ,  the 
good  will  of  his  soldiers.** 

«  See  the  despatch  of  Waldeck  In  the  London  Gazette,  Aug.  26.  1689; 
Historical  Records  of  the  Pirat  Regiment  of  Foot;  Dangcau,  Aug.  28.; 
Monthly  Mercury,  September  1689. 

**  See  the  Dear  Bargain,  a  Jacobite  pamphlet  clandestinely  printed 

WILUAM   AND   WAHT.  105 

About  the  time  at  which  the  contending  armies  in  every  part   chap. 
of  Europe  were  going  into  winter  (luarters,    a  new  Pontiff    ^^^^'  ■ 
ascended  the  chair  of  Saint  Peter.     Innocent  the  Eleventh  was  pope  in- 
no  more.    His  fate  had  been  strange  indeed.    His  conscientious  ",Kce"cd-" 
and  fervent  attachment  to  the  Church  of  which  he  was  the  head  Aician- 
had  induced  him,  at  one  of  the  most  critical  conjunctures  in  her  ''''  ^"'• 
liistory,  to  ally  himself  with  her  mortal  enemies.     The  news  of 
his  decease  was  received  with  concern  and  alarm  by  Protestant 
princes  and  commonwealths,  and  with  joy  and  hope  at  Ver- 
sailles and  Dublin.     An  extraordiniuy  ambassador  of  high 
rank,  was  instantly  despatched  by  Lewis  to  Home.     The  French 
garrison  which  had  been  placed  in  Avignon  was  withdrawn. 
When  the  votes  of  the  Conclave  had  been  united  in  favour  of 
Peter  Ottobuoni,  an  ancient  Cardinal  who  assumed  the  appella- 
tion of  Alexander  the  Eighth,  the  representative  of  France 
assisted  at  the  installation,  bore  up  the  cope  of  the  new  Pontiff, 
and  put  into  the  hands  of  His  Holiness  a  letter  in  which  the 
most  Christian  King  declared  that  he  renounced  the  odious 
privilege    of  protecting   robbers    and    assassins.     Alexander 
pressed  the  letter  to  his  lips,  embraced  the  bearer,  and  talked 
with  rapture  of  the  near  prospect  of  reconciliation.      Lewis 
began  to  entertain  a  hope  that  the  influence  of  the  Vatican 
might  be  exerted  to  dissolve  the  alliance  between  the  House  of 
Austria  and  the  heretical  usurper  of  the  English  throne.    James 
was  even  more  sanguine.     He  was  foolish  enough  to  expect 
that  the  new  Pope  would  give  him  money,  and  ordered  Melfort, 
who  had  now  acquitted  himself  of  his  mission  at  Versailles,  to 
hasten  to  Rome,  and  beg  His  Holiness  to  contribute  something 
towards  the  good  work  of  upholding  pui-e  religion  in  the  British 
islands.  But  it  soon  appeared  that  Alexander,  though  he  might 

In  1690.  "I  have  not  patience,"  says  the  writer,  "after  this  wretch 
(Marlborough)  to  mention  any  other.  All  are  Innocent  coiiiparatiTcly,  even 
Kirko  himadf." 


CHAP,  hold  language  different  from  that  of  his  predecessor,   was 
■   ^'^-    determined  to  follow  in  essentials  his  predecessor's  policy. 
ITie  original  cause  of  the  quarrel  between  the  Holy  See  and 
Lewis  was  not  removed.     The  King  continued  to   appoint 
prelates:  the  Pope  continued  to  refuse  them  institution:  and 
the  consequence  was  that  a  fourth  part  of  the  dioceses  of  France 
had  bishops  who  were  incapable  of  performing  any  episcopal 
The  High       The  Anglican  Church  was,  at  this  time,  not  less  distracted 
c*iergf    than  the  Gallican  Church.    The  first  of  August  had  been  fixed 
on'ihf    by  Act  of  Parliament  as  the  day  before  the  close  of  which  all 
?helTihs!  beneficed  clergymen  and  all  persons  holding  academical  offices 
must,  on  pain  of  suspension,  swear  allegiance  to  William  and 
Mary.    During  the  earlier  part  of  the  summer,  the  Jacobites 
hoped  that  the  number  of  nonjurors  would  be  so  considerable 
as  seriously  to  alarm  and  embarrass  the  Government.    But  this 
hope  was  disappointed.    Few  indeed  of  the  clergy  were  Whigs. 
Few  were  Tories  of  that  moderate  school  which  acknowledged, 
reluctantly  and  with  reserve,  that  extreme  abuses  might  some- 
times justify  a  nation  in  resorting  to  extreme  remedies.    The 
great  majority  of  the  profession  still  held  the  doctrine  of  passive 
obedience :  but  that  majority  was  now  divided  into  two  sections. 
A  question,   which,   before  the  Revolution,   had  been  mere 
matter  of  speculation,  and  had  therefore,  though  sometimes 
incidentally  raised,  been,  by  most  persons,  very  superficially 
considered,  had  now  become  practically  most  important.    The 
doctrine  of  passive  obedience  being  taken  for  granted,  to  whom 
was  that  obedience  due?    While  the  hereditary  right  and  the 
possession  were  conjoined,  there  was  no  room  for  doubt:  but 

•  See  the  Mercuries  for  September  1689,  and  tlie  four  following  months. 
See  also  Welwood's  Mercurius  Koformatus  of  Sept.  18.  Sept.  26.  and  Oct.  8. 
1689.  Melfort'a  Instructions,  and  his  memorials  to  the  Pope  and  the  Car- 
dinal of  Este,  are  among  the  Nairnc  Papers;  and  some  extracts  have  been 
printed  by  Macpherson- 



the  hereditary  right  and  the  possession  were  now  separated,  chap. 
One  prince,  raised  by  the  Revolution,  was  reigning  at  West-  —[^^^'  - 
minster,  passing  laws,  appointing  magistrates  and  prelates, 
sending  forth  armies  and  fleets.  His  Judges  decided  causes. 
His  Sheriffs  arrested  debtors  and  executed  criminals.  Justice, 
order,  property,  would  cease  to  exist,  and  society  would  be 
resolved  into  chaos,  but  for  his  Great  Seal.  Another  prince, 
deposed  by  the  llevolution,  was  living  abroad.  He  could 
exercise  none  of  the  powers  and  pcrfonn  none  of  the  duties  of  a 
i-uler,  and  could,  as  it  seemed,  be  restored  only  by  means  as 
violent  as  those  by  which  he  had  been  displaced.  To  which  of 
these  two  princes  did  Christian  men  owe  allegiance? 

To  a  large  part  of  the  clergy  it  appeared  that  the  plain  letter  Ant";  ^^^ 
of  Scripture  required  them  to  submit  to  the  Sovereign  who  was  taking  the 
in  possession,  without  troubling  themselves  about  his  title. 
The  powers  which  the  Apostle,  in  the  text  most  familiar  to  the 
Anglican  divines  of  that  age,  pronounces  to  be  ordained  of  God, 
i\re  not  the  powers  that  can  be  traced  back  to  a  legitimate  origin, 
but  the  powers  that  be.     "\Mien  Jesus  was  asked  whether  the 
chosen  people  might  lawfully  give  tribute  to  Csesar,  he  replied 
by  asking  the  questioners,  not  whether  Ca?sar  could  make  out 
a  pedigree  derived  from  the  old  royal  house  of  Judah,  but 
whether  the  coin  which  they  scrupled  to  pay  into  Ca?sar'8  trea- 
sury came  from  Caesar's  mint,  in  other  words,  whether  Caesar 
actually  possessed  the  authority  and  performed  the  functions  of 
a  ruler. 

It  is  generally  held,  with  much  appearance  of  reason,  that 
the  most  tnistworthy  comment  on  the  text  of  the  Gospels  and 
Epistles  is  to  be  found  in  the  practice  of  the  primitive  ('hristians, 
when  that  practice  can  be  satisfactorily  ascertained;  and  it  so 
happened  that  the  times  during  which  the  Church  is  universally 
acknowledged  to  have  been  in  the  highest  state  of  purity  were 
times  of  frequent  and  violent  political  change.     One  at  least 



CHAP,  of  the  Apostles  appears  to  have  livedto  see  fourEmperors  pulled 
■  down  in  little  more  than  a  yeeir.  Of  the  martyrs  of  the  third 
centur)'  a  great  proportion  must  have  been  able  to  remember 
ten  or  twelve  revolutions.  Those  martyi-s  must  have  had  occa- 
sion often  to  consider  what  was  their  duty  towards  a  prince  just 
raised  to  power  by  a  successful  insun-ection.  That  they  were, 
one  and  all,  deterred  by  the  fear  of  punishment  from  doing  what 
they  thought  right,  is  an  imputation  which  no  candid  infidel 
would  throw  on  them.  Yet ,  if  there  be  any  proposition  which 
can  with  perfect  confidence  be  affirmed  touching  the  early 
Christians ,  it  is  this ,  that  they  never  once  refused  obedience  to 
any  actual  ruler  on  account  of  the  illegitimacy  of  his  title.  At 
one  time,  indeed,  the  supreme  power  was  claimed  by  twenty  or 
thirty  competitors.  Every  pro\'ince  fi-om  Britain  to  Egy|)t  had 
its  ovra  Augustus.  All  these  pretenders  could  not  be  rightful 
Emperors.  Yet  it  does  not  appear  that,  in  any  place,  the  faithful 
had  any  scruple  about  submitting  to  the  person  who,  in  that 
place,  exercised  the  imperial  functions.  "VMiile  the  Christian 
of  Rome  obeyed  Aurelian,  the  Christian  of  Lyons  obeyed  Te- 
tricus,  and  the  Christian  of  PalmjTa  obeyed  Zenobia.  "Day  and 
night,"  — such  were  the  words  which  the  great  Cyprian ,  Bishop 
of  Carthage ,  addressed  to  the  representative  of  Valerian  and 
Gallienus ,  —  "  day  and  night  do  we  Christians  pray  to  the  one 
true  God  for  the  safety  of  our  Emperors."  Yet  those  Emperors 
had  a  few  months  before  pulled  down  their  predecessor  JEmi- 
lianus,  who  had  pulled  down  his  predecessor  Gallus,  who  had 
climbed  to  power  on  the  ruins  of  the  house  of  his  predecessor 
Decius,  who  had  slain  his  predecessor  Philip,  who  had  slain 
his  predecessor  Gordian.  Was  it  possible  to  believe  that  a 
saint,  who  had,  in  the  short  space  of  thirteen  or  fourteen  years, 
borne  true  allegiance  to  this  series  of  rebels  and  regicides,  would 
have  made  a  schism  in  the  Christian  body  rather  than  acknow- 
ledge King  William  and  Queen  Mary?    A  hundred  times  those 


Andican  divines  who  had  taken  the  oaths  challenged  their  more    rmr. 

.  .  .XIV 

scrupulous  hrctliren  to  cite  a  single  instance  in  which  the  pri — f^gj;" 
mitive  Church  had  refused  obedience  to  a  successful  usurper; 
and  a  hundred  times  the  challenge  was  evaded.  The  nonjurors 
had  little  to  say  on  this  head ,  except  that  precedents  were  of  no 
force  when  opposed  to  principles,  a  proposition  which  came 
with  but  a  bad  grace  from  a  school  which  had  always  pro- 
fessed an  almost  superstitious  reverence  for  the  authority  of  the 

To  precedents  drawn  from  later  and  more  corrupt  times  little 
respect  was  due.  But,  even  in  the  history  of  later  and  more 
corrupt  times,  the  nonjurors  could  not  easily  find  any  precedent 
that  would  serve  their  purpose.  In  our  own  country  many 
Kings ,  who  had  not  the  hereditary  right ,  had  filled  the  throne : 
but  it  had  never  been  thought  inconsistent  with  the  duty  of  a 
Christian  to  be  a  true  liegeman  to  such  Rings.  The  usurpation 
of  Henry  the  Fourth,  the  more  odious  usurpation  of  Richard 
the  Third,  had  produced  no  schism  in  the  Church.  As  soon  as 
the  usurper  was  firm  in  his  seat,  Bishops  had  done  homage  to 
him  for  their  domains:  Convocations  had  presented  addresses 
to  him,  and  granted  him  supplies;  nor  had  any  casuist  ever 

•  See  the  Answer  of  a  Ncnjuror  to  the  Bishop  of  Sarum's  challenge  in 
the  Appendix  to  the  Life  of  Kettlcwell.  .Among  the  Tanner  MSS.  in  the 
Bodleian  Library  is  a  paper  which,  as  Bancroft  thought  It  worth  prcscrvinp, 
I  venture  to  quote.  The  writer,  a  strong  nonjuror,  after  trying  to  evade, 
by  many  pitiable  shifts,  the  argument  drawn  by  a  more  compliant  divine 
from  the  practice  of  the  primitive  Charch,  proceeds  thus:  "Supj)Ose  the 
primitive  Christians  all  along,  from  the  time  of  the  very  Apostles,  had  been 
as  regardless  of  their  oaths  by  former  princes  as  he  suggests,  will  he  there- 
fore say  that  their  practice  is  to  be  a  rule?  Ill  things  have  been  done,  and 
very  generally  abetted,  by  men  of  otherwise  very  orthodox  principles." 
The  argument  from  the  practice  of  tlie  primitive  Christians  Is  remarkably 
well  put  in  a  tract  entitled  The  Doctrine  of  Nonresistancc  or  Passive 
Obedience  No  Way  concerned  in  tlie  Controversies  now  depending  between 
the  Wllliamltcs  and  the  Jacobites,  by  a  Lay  Gentleman,  of  the  Communion 
of  the  Church  of  England,  as  by  Law  cstablish'd,  1689. 

110  illSXOJir  OS  EUGLAUD. 

CHAP,  pronounced  that  such  submission  to  a  prince  in  possession  was 
-—-deadly  sin.* 

With  the  practice  of  the  whole  Christian  world  the  authori- 
tative teaching  of  the  Church  of  England  appeared  to  be  in 
strict  harmony.  The  Homily  on  Wilful  Rebellion ,  a  discourse 
which  inculcates,  in  unmeasured  terms,  the  duty  of  obeying 
rulers,  speaks  of  none  but  actual  rulers.  Nay,  the  people  are 
distinctly  told  in  that  Homily  that  they  are  bound  to  obey,  not 
only  their  legitimate  prnce,  but  any  usurper  whom  God  shall 
in  anger  set  over  them  for  their  sins.  And  surely  it  would  be 
the  height  of  absurdity  to  say  that  we  must  accept  submissively 
such  usurpers  as  God  sends  in  anger,  but  must  pertinaciously 
withhold  our  obedience  from  usurpers  whom  He  sends  in  mercy. 
Grant  that  it  was  a  crime  to  invite  the  Prince  of  Orange  over,  a 
crime  to  join  him,  a  crime  to  make  him  King;  yet  what  was 
the  whole  history  of  the  Jewish  nation  and  of  the  Christian 
Church  but  a  record  of  cases  in  which  Providence  had  brought 
good  out  of  evil?  And  what  theologian  would  assert  that,  in  such 
cases,  we  ought,  from  abhorrence  of  the  evil,  to  reject  the  good? 
On  these  grounds  a  large  body  of  divines ,  still  asserting  the 
doctrine  that  to  resist  the  Sovereign  must  always  be  sinful, 
conceived  that  William  was  now  the  Sovereign  whom  it  would 
be  sinful  to  resist. 
m'Ss  To  these  arguments  the  nonjurors  replied  that  Saint  Paul 

taid'ng'iiie  "^"^t  havB  meant  by  the  powers  that  be  the  rightful  powers  that 


•  One  of  the  moat  adulatory  addresses  ever  voted  by  a  Convocation 
was  to  Richard  the  Third.  It  will  be  found  in  Willcins's  Concilia.  Dryden, 
in  his  tine  rifacimento  of  one  of  the  finest  passages  in  the  Prologue  to  the 
Canterbury  Tales,  represents  the  Good  Parson  as  choosing  to  resign  his 
benefice  rather  than  acknowledge  the  Duke  of  Lancaster  to  be  King  of 
England.  For  this  representation  no  warrant  can  be  found  in  Chaucer's 
Poem,  or  any  where  else.  Dryden  wished  to  write  something  that  would 
gall  the  clergy  who  had  taken  the  oaths,  and  therefore  attributed  to  a  Ro- 
man Catholic  priest  of  the  fourteenth  century  a  superstition  whlcll  ori- 
ginated among  the  Anglican  priests  of  the  seventeenth  century. 



be ;  and  that  to  put  any  other  interpretation  on  his  words  would  chap. 
be  to  outrage  common  sense,  to  dishonour  religion,  to  give - 
scandal  to  weak  believers,  to  give  an  occasion  of  triumph  to 
scoffers.  The  feelings  of  all  mankind  must  be  shocked  by  the 
proposition  that,  as  soon  as  a  King,  however  cluar  his  title, 
however  wise  and  good  his  administration,  is  expelled  by 
traitors,  all  his  servants  are  bound  to  abandon  him,  and  to 
range  themselves  on  the  side  of  his  enemies.  In  all  ages  and 
nations,  fidelity  to  a  good  cause  in  adversity  had  been  regarded 
as  a  virtue.  In  all  ages  and  nations,  the  politician  whose 
practice  was  always  to  be  on  the  side  which  was  uppermost  had 
been  despised.  This  new  Toryism  was  worse  than  "Whiggism. 
To  break  through  the  ties  of  allegiance  because  the  Sovereign 
was  a  t)Tant  was  doubtless  a  very  great  sin:  but  it  was  a  sin  for 
which  specious  names  and  pretexts  might  be  found,  and  into  which 
a  brave  and  generous  man,  not  instructed  in  divine  truth  and 
guarded  by  divine  grace,  might  easily  fall.  But  to  break  through 
the  ties  of  allegiance,  merely  because  the  Sovereign  was  unfortu- 
nate, was  not  only  wicked,  but  dirty.  Could  any  unbeliever  offer 
a  greater  insult  to  the  Scriptures  than  by  asserting  that  the  Scrip- 
tures had  enjoined  on  Christians  as  a  sacred  duty  what  the  light  of 
nature  had  taught  heathens  to  regard  as  the  last  excess  of 
baseness?  In  the  Scriptures  was  to  be  found  the  history  of  a 
King  of  Israel,  driven  from  his  palace  by  an  unnatural  son, 
and  compelled  to  fly  beyond  Jordan.  David,  like  James,  had 
the  right:  Absalom,  like  "\\'illiam,  had  the  possession.  Would 
any  student  of  the  sacred  \\-ritings  dare  to  affirm  that  the  con- 
duct of  Shimei  on  that  occasion  was  proposed  as  a  pattern  to  be 
imitated,  and  that  Barzillai,  who  loyally  adhered  to  his  fugitive 
master,  was  resisting  the  ordinance  of  God,  and  receiving  to 
himself  damnation?  Would  any  true  son  of  the  Church  of 
England  seriously  affirm  that  a  man  who  was  a  strenuous 
royalist  till  after  the  battle  of  Naseby,  who  then  went  over  to 



CHAP,  the  Parliament,  who,  as  soon  as  the  Parliament  had  been 
purged,  became  an  obsequious  servant  of  the  Rump ,  and  who, 
as  soon  as  the  Rump  had  been  ejected,  professed  himself  a 
faithful  subject  of  the  Protector,  was  more  deserving  of  the 
respect  of  Christian  men  than  the  stout  old  Cavalier  who  bore 
true  fealty  to  Charles  the  First  in  prison  and  to  Charles  the 
Second  in  exile ,  and  who  was  ready  to  put  lands ,  liberty,  life, 
in  peril,  rather  than  acknowledge,  by  word  or  act,  the  authority 
of  any  of  the  upstart  governments  which ,  during  that  evil  time, 
obtained  possession  of  a  power  not  legitimately  theirs?  And 
what  distinction  was  there  between  that  case  and  the  case 
which  had  noAV  arisen  ?  That  Cromwell  had  actually  enjoyed  as 
much  power  as  William ,  nay  much  more  power  than  William, 
was  quite  certain.  That  the  power  of  William,  as  well  as  the 
power  of  Cromwell,  had  an  illegitimate  origin,  no  divine  who 
held  the  doctrine  of  nonresistance  would  dispute.  How  then 
was  it  possible  for  such  a  divine  to  deny  that  obedience  had 
been  due  to  Cromwell,  and  yet  to  affirm  that  it  was  due  to 
William?  To  suppose  that  there  could  be  such  inconsistency 
without  dishonesty  would  be  not  charity  but  weakness.  Those 
who  were  determined  to  comply  with  the  Act  of  Parliament 
would  do  better  to  speak  out,  and  to  say,  what  every  body 
knew,  that  they  complied  simply  to  save  their  benefices.  The 
motive  was  no  doubt  strong.  That  a  clergyman  who  was  a  hus- 
band and  a  father  should  look  forward  with  dread  to  the  first  of 
August  and  the  first  of  February  was  natui-al.  But  he  would  do 
well  to  remember  that,  however  terrible  might  be  the  day  of 
s-uspension  and  the  day  of  deprivation,  there  would  assuredly 
come  two  other  days  more  terrible  still ,  the  day  of  death  and 
the  day  of  judgment.* 

»  See  the  defence  of  the  profession  which  the  Right  Reverend  Father 
In  God  John  Lake,  Lord  Bishop  of  Chichester,  made  upon  his  deathbed 
concerning  passive  obedience  and  the  new  oaths.    1690. 

Wn.MAM   AND   MATIT.  1  1  3 

The  swearing  clergy,  as  they  were  called,  were  not  a  little 
perplexed  by  this  reasoning.  Nothing  embarrassed  them  more 
than  the  analogy  which  the  nonjurors  were  never  weary  of 
pointing  out  between  the  usurpation  of  Cromwell  and  the  usur- 
pation of  William.  Fur  there  was  in  that  age  no  High  Church- 
man who  would  not  have  thought  himself  reduced  to  an  ab- 
surdity if  he  had  been  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  saying  that 
the  Church  had  commanded  her  sons  to  obey  Cromwell.  And 
yet  it  was  impossible  to  prove  that  AVilliam  was  more  fully  in 
possession  of  supreme  power  than  Cromwell  had  been.  The 
swearers  therefore  avoided  coming  to  close  quarters  with  the 
nonjurors  on  this  point  as  carefully  as  the  nonjurors  avoided 
coming  to  close  quarters  with  the  swearers  on  the  question 
touching  the  practice  of  the  primitive  Church. 

The  truth  is  that  the  theory  of  government  which  had  long 
been  taught  by  the  clergy  was  so  absurd  that  it  could  lead  to 
nothing  but  absurdity.  "VMiether  the  priest  who  adhered  to 
that  theory  swore  or  refused  to  swear,  he  was  alike  unable  to 
give  a  rational  explanation  of  his  conduct.  If  he  swore,  he 
could  vindicate  his  swearing  only  by  lajing  down  propositions 
ngainst  which  every  honest  heart  instinctively  revolts,  only  by 
proclaiming  that  Christ  had  commanded  the  Church  to  desert 
the  righteous  cause  as  soon  as  that  cause  ceased  to  prosper, 
and  to  strengthen  the  hands  of  successful  villany  against 
afflicted  virtue.  And  yet,  strong  as  were  the  objections  to  this 
doctrine,  the  objections  to  the  doctrine  of  the  nonjuror  were, 
if  possible,  stronger  still.  According  to  him,  a  Chi-istian  nation 
ought  always  to  be  in  a  state  of  slavery  or  in  a  state  of  anarchy. 
Something  is  to  be  said  for  the  man  who  sacrifices  liberty  to 
preserve  order.  Something  is  to  be  said  for  the  man  who  sacri- 
fices order  to  preserve  liberty.  For  liberty  and  order  are  two  of 
the  greatest  blessings  which  a  society  can  enjoy:  and,  when 
unfortunately  they  appear  to  be  incompatible,  much  indulgence 
Macauldt),  History.   V.  0 


114  uisioiii'  oi'  li^^GLA^•i). 

CHAP,    is  due  to  those  Avho  take  either  side.     But  the  nonjuror  sa- 

XIV.  . 

-crificed,  not  liberty  to  order,  not  order  to  liberty,  but  both 
liberty  and  order  to  a  superstition  as  stupid  and  degrading  as 
the  Eg)'])tian  worship  of  cats  and  onions.  "WTiile  a  particular 
person,  differing  from  other  persons  by  the  mere  accident  of 
birth,  was  on  the  throne,  though  he  might  be  a  Nero,  there 
was  to  be  no  insubordination.  \Mien  any  other  person  was  on 
the  throne,  though  he  might  be  an  Alfred,  there  was  to  be  no 
obedience.  It  mattered  not  how  frantic  and  wicked  might  be 
the  administration  of  the  dynasty  which  had  the  hereditary 
title,  or  how  wise  and  virtuous  might  be  the  administration  of  a 
government  sprung  from  a  revolution.  Nor  could  any  time  oi 
limitation  be  pleaded  against  the  claim  of  the  expelled  family. 
The  lapse  of  years,  the  lapse  of  ages,  made  no  change.  To 
the  end  of  the  world ,  Christians  were  to  regulate  then-  political 
conduct  simply  according  to  the  genealogy  of  their  ruler.  The 
year  1800,  the  year  1900,  might  find  princes  who  derived  their 
title  from  the  votes  of  the  Convention  reigning  in  peace  and 
prosperity.  No  matter:  they  would  still  be  usurpers;  and, 
if,  in  the  twentieth  or  twenty  first  century,  any  person  who 
could  make  out  a  better  right  by  blood  to  the  crown  should  call 
on  a  late  posterity  to  acknowledge  him  as  King,  the  call  must 
be  obeyed  on  peril  of  eternal  perdition. 

A  "WTiig  might  well  enjoy  the  thought  that  the  controversies 
which  had  arisen  among  his  adversaries  had  established  the 
soundness  of  his  owa  political  creed.  The  disputants  who  had 
long  agreed  in  accusing  him  of  an  impious  error  had  now 
effectually  vindicated  him,  and  refuted  one  another.  The  High 
Churchman  who  took  the  oaths  had  shown  by  iiTefragable  argu- 
ments from  the  Gospels  and  tlie  Epistles,  from  the  uniform 
practice  of  the  primitive  Church,  and  from  the  expHcit  de- 
clarations of  the  Anglican  Church,  that  Christians  were  not  in 
all  cases  bound  to  pay  obedience  to  the  prince  who  had  the 


WtLLlAM  AM)    MAHV-  115 

herudilary  litlu.  Tlic  Hijjli  C'hurcluiian  who  would  not  take  the  chap. 
oaths  had  shown  as  satisfactorily  thut  Christians  were  not  in  all  - 
cases  bound  to  pay  obedience  to  the  prince  vho  -was  actually 
reigning.  It  followed  thut,  to  entitle  a  government  to  the 
allegiance  of  subjects,  something  was  necessaiy  different  from 
mere  legitimacy,  and  different  also  from  mere  possession.  "\Miat 
that  something  was  the  Whigs  had  no  difficulty  in  pronouncing. 
In  their  view,  the  end  for  which  all  governments  had  been 
instituted  was  the  happiness  of  society.  A^'hile  the  magistrate 
was,  on  the  whole,  notwithstanding  some  faults,  a  minister 
for  good,  Reason  taught  mankind  to  obey  him;  and  Religion, 
givuig  her  solemn  sanction  to  the  teaching  of  Reason,  com- 
manded mankind  to  revere  him  as  divinely  commissioned.  But 
if  he  proved  to  be  a  minister  for  evil,  on  what  grounds  was  he 
to  be  considered  as  divinely  commissioned?  The  Tories  who 
ewore  had  proved  that  he  ought  not  to  be  so  considered  on 
account  of  the  origin  of  his  power:  the  Tories  who  would  not 
swear  had  proved  as  clearly  that  he  ought  not  to  be  so  con- 
sidered on  account  of  the  existence  of  his  power. 

Some  violent  and  acrimonious  "Whigs  triumphed  ostenta- 
tiously and  with  merciless  insolence  over  the  perplexed  and 
divided  priesthood.  The  nonjuror  they  generally  affected  to 
regard  with  contemptuous  pity  as  a  dull  and  perverse,  but 
sincere,  bigot,  whose  absurd  practice  was  in  hannony  with  his 
absurd  theory,  and  who  might  plead,  in  excuse  for  the  in- 
fatuation which  impelled  him  to  ruin  his  country,  that  the  same 
infatuation  had  impelled  him  to  ruin  himself.  They  reserved 
their  sharpest  taunts  for  those  divines  who,  having,  in  the 
days  of  the  Exclusion  Bill  and  the  Rye  House  Plot,  been  dis- 
tinguished by  zeal  for  the  divine  and  indefeasible  right  of  the 
hereditary  Sovereign,  were  now  ready  to  s^Year  fealty  to  an 
usui-per.  Was  this  then  the  real  sense  of  all  those  sublime 
plu-ases  which  had  resounded  during  twenty  nine  years  from  in- 


11  G  mSTOKT   0-p  ENGLAjm. 

CHAP,  numerable  pulpits?    Had  the  thousands  of  clergymen,  who  had 
-4^^^  so  loudly  boasted  of  the  unchangeable  loyalty  of  their  order, 
really  meant  only  that  their  loyalty  would  remain  unchangeable 
till  the  next  change  of  fortune?    It  was  idle,  it  was  impudent 
in  them  to  pretend  that  their  present  conduct  was  consistent 
with  their  former  language.     If  any  Reverend  Doctor  had  at 
length  been  convinced  that  he  had  been  in  the  wrong,  he  surely 
ought,  by  an  open  recantation,  to  make  all  the  amends  now 
possible  to  the  persecuted,   the  calumniated,    the  murdered 
defenders  of  liberty.     If  he  was  still  convinced  that  his  old 
opinions  were  sound,  he  ought  manfully  to  cast  in  his  lot  with 
the  nonjurors.    Respect,  it  was  said,  is  due  to  him  who  in- 
genuously confesses  an  error;  respect  is  due  to  him  who  cou- 
rageously suffers  for  an  en-or;  but  it  is  difficult  to  respect  a 
minister  of  religion  who,  while  asserting  that  he  still  adheres  to 
the  principles  of  the  Tories,  saves  his  benefice  by  taking  an 
oath  which  can  be  honestly  taken  only  on  the  principles  of  the 

These  reproaches,  though  perhaps  not  altogether  unjust, 

were  unseasonable.    The  wiser  and   more  moderate  Whigs, 

sensible  that  the  throne  of  William  could  not  stand  firm  if  it 

had  not  a  wider  basis  than  their  own  party,  abstained  at  this 

conjuncture  from  sneers  and  invectives,  and  exerted  themselves 

to  remove  the  scruples  and  to  soothe  the  irritated  feelings 

of  the  clergy.    The  collective  power  of  the  rectors  and  vicars 

of  England  was  immense:  and  it  was  much  better  that  they 

should  swear  for  the  most  flimsy  reason  that  could  be  devised 

by  a  sophist  than  they  should  not  swear  at  all. 

A  grent  It  soon  became  clear  that  the  arguments  for  swearing, 

oflho"^  backed  as  they  were  by  some  of  the  strongest  motives  which 

;^'"*^y      can  influence  the  human  mind,  had  prevailed.     Above  twenty 

oati.s.      jijne  thirtieths  of  the  profession  submitted  to  the  law.    Most 

of  the  divines  of  the  capital ,  who  then  formed  a  separate  class, 

WllXlAM   AJSil    MAiiif.  117 

and  who  were  as  much  distinj'uishecl  from  the  rural  clerffv  by  chap. 
liberality  of  sentiment  as  by  eloquence  and  learning,  gave  iii-  ^^^^'- 
their  adhesion  to  the  government  early,  and  with  every  sign 
of  cordial  attachment.  Eighty  of  them  repaired  together,  in 
full  term,  to  Westminster  Hall,  and  were  there  sworn.  The 
ceremony  occupied  so  long  a  time  that  little  else  was  done  that 
day  in  the  Courts  of  Chancery  and  King's  Bench.*  But  in 
general  the  compliance  was  tardy,  sad  and  sullen.  Many,  no 
doubt,  deliberately  sacrificed  principle  to  interest.  Conscience 
told  them  that  they  were  committing  a  sin.  But  they  had  not 
fortitude  to  resign  the  parsonage,  the  garden,  the  glebe,  and 
to  go  forth  without  knowing  where  to  find  a  meal  or  a  roof  for 
tliemselves  and  their  little  ones.  Many  swore  with  doubts  and 
misgivings.**  Some  declared,  at  the  moment  of  taking  the 
oath,  that  they  did  not  mean  to  promise  that  they  would  not 
submit  to  James,  if  he  should  ever  be  in  a  condition  to  demand 
their  allegiance.***  Some  clergjinen  in  the  north  were ,  on  the 
first  of  August,  going  in  a  company  to  swear,  when  they  were 
met  on  the  road  by  the  news  of  the  battle  which  had  been 
fought,  four  days  before,  in  the  pass  of  Killiecrankie.  They 
immediately  turned  back ,  and  did  not  again  leave  their  homes 
on  the  same  errand  till  it  was  clear  that  Dundee's  ^^ctory  had 
made  no  change  in  the  state  of  public  aff'airs.t  Even  of  those 
whose  understandings  were  fully  convinced  that  obedience  was 
due  to  the  existing  government,  very  few  kissed  the  book  with 
the  heartiness  with  which  they  had  formerly  plighted  their  faith 
to  Charles  and  James.    Still  the  thing  was  done.   Ten  thousand 

•  London  Gazette,  Juno  30.  1C89;  Narcissus  Luttroll's  Diary.    "Tiio 
cniiiieiitcst  men,"  says  Luttrcll. 

*•  See  in  Kettle  well's  Life,  iii  72.,  the  retractation  drawn  by  him  for 
a  clergyman  who  liad  taken  the  oaths,  and  who  afterwards  repented  of 
having  done  so. 

•••  See  the  account  of  Dr.  Dove's  conduct  in  Clarendon's  Diary,  and  tlio 
account  of  Dr.  Marsh's  conduct  in  the  Life  of  Kcttleweil. 
f  The  Anatomy  of  a  Jacobite  Tory,  lO'JO. 


CHAP.  clergjTnen  had  solemnly  called  heaven  to  attest  then*  promise 



■  that  they  would  be  true  liegemen  to  William;  and  this  promise, 
though  it  by  no  means  warranted  him  in  expecting  that  they 
would  strenuously  support  him ,  had  at  least  deprived  them  of  a 
great  part  of  their  power  to  injure  him.  They  could  not,  without 
entirely  forfeiting  that  public  respect  on  which  their  influence 
depended,  attack,  except  in  an  indirect  and  timidly  cautious 
manner,  the  throne  of  one  whom  they  had,  in  the  presence 
of  God,  vowed  to  obey  as  their  King.  Some  of  them,  it  is 
true,  affected  to  read  the  prayers  for  the  new  Sovereigns  in  a 
peculiar  tone  which  could  not  be  misunderstood.*  Others 
were  guilty  of  still  grosser  indecency.  Thus,  one  wretch,  just 
after  praying  for  William  and  Mary  in  the  most  solemn  office 
of  religion,  took  off  a  glass  to  their  damnation.  Anothei", 
after  performing  divine  service  on  a  fast  day  appointed  by  their 
authority,  dined  on  a  pigeon  pie,  and  while  he  cut  it  up,  uttered 
a  wish  that  it  was  the  usurpei's  heart.  But  such  audacious 
wickedness  was  doubtless  rare  and  was  rather  injurious  to  the 
Church  than  to  the  government.** 
The  non-       Those  clergymen  and  members  of  the  Universities  who  incur- 

jurors.  °'' 

red  the  penalties  of  the  law  were  about  four  hundred  in  number. 
Foremost  in  rank  stood  the  Primate  and  six  of  his  suffragans, 
Turner  of  Ely,  Lloyd  of  Norwich,  Frampton  of  Gloucester, 
Lake  of  Chichester,  "V\'Tiite  of  Peterborough,  and  Ken  of  Bath 
and  Wells.  Thomas  of  Worcester  would  have  made  a  seventh : 
but  he  died  three  weeks  before  the  day  of  suspension.  On  his 
deathbed  he  adjured  his  clergy  to  be  true  to  the  cause  of  heredi- 
tary right,  and  declared  that  those  divines  who  tried  to  make 
out  that  the  oaths  might  be  taken  without  any  departure  from 
the  loyal  doctrines  of  the  Church  of  England  seemed  to  him  to 
reason  more  Jesuitically  than  the  Jesuits  themselves.*** 

*  Dialogue  between  a  Whig  and  a  Tory. 
•*  Narcissus  Luttrell's  Diary,  Nov.  1691,  Feb.  1692. 
«■»«  Life  of  Kettlewell,  iii.  4 

WaU-UM    AXP   MAKT.  119 

Ken,  who,  both  in  intellectual  and  in  moral  qualities,  ranked  chap. 
highest  amons  the  nonjuring  prelates,  hesitated  long.  There  — f^^T" 
were  few  clergj-men  M-ho  could  have  submitted  to  the  new  kim. 
government  with  abetter  grace.  For,  in  the  times  when  non- 
resistance  and  passive  obedience  were  the  favourite  themes  of 
his  brethren,  he  had  scarcely  ever  alluded  to  politics  in  the 
jiulpit.  He  owned  that  the  arguments  in  favour  of  swearing 
were  ver)'  strong.  He  went  indeed  so  far  as  to  say  that  his 
scruples  would  be  completely  removed  if  he  could  be  convinced 
that  James  had  entered  into  engagements  for  ceding  Ireland  to 
the  French  King.  It  is  evident  therefore  that  the  difference  be- 
tween Ken  and  the  Mliigs  was  not  a  difference  of  principle.  He 
thought,  with  them,  thatmisgovemment,  carried  to  a  certain 
point,  justified  a  transfer  of  allegiance,  and  doubted  only 
whether  the  misgovernment  of  James  had  been  carried  quite  to 
that  point.  Nay,  the  good  Bishop  actually  began  to  prepare  a 
pastoral  letter  explaining  his  reasons  for  taking  the  oaths.  But, 
before  it  was  finished,  he  received  information  which  convinced 
him  that  Ireland  had  not  been  made  over  to  France:  doubts 
came  thick  upon  him:  he  threw  his  unfinished  letter  into  the 
fire,  and  implored  his  less  scrupulous  friends  not  to  urge  him 
further.  He  was  sure,  he  said,  that  they  had  acted  uprightly: 
he  was  glad  that  they  could  do  with  a  clear  conscience  what  he 
shrank  from  doing:  he  felt  the  force  of  their  reasoning:  he  was 
all  but  persuaded;  and  he  was  afraid  to  listen  longer  lest  he 
should  be  quite  persuaded:  for,  if  he  should  comply,  and  his 
misgivings  should  afterwards  return,  he  should  be  the  most 
miserable  of  men.  Not  for  wealth,  not  for  a  palace,  not  for  a 
peerage,  would  he  run  the  smallest  risk  of  ever  feeling  the  tor- 
ments of  remorse.  It  is  a  curious  fact  that,  of  the  seven  non- 
juring  prelates,  the  only  one  whose  name  carries  with  it  much 
weight  was  on  the  point  of  swearing,  and  was  prevented  from 
doing  so,  as  he  himself  acknowledged,  not  by  the  force  of  rea- 


120  UlSTOKr   Ol'-  KNGliAND. 

CHAP,  son,  but  by  a  morbid  scrupulosity  which  he  did  not  advise  others 
-  to  imitate.* 

Among  the  priests  who  refused  the  oaths  were  some  men 
eminent  in  the  learned  world,  as  grammarians,  chronologists, 
canonists,  and  antiquaries,  and  a  very  few  who  were  distin- 
guished by  wit  and  eloquence:  but  scarcely  one  can  be  named 
who  was  qualified  to  discuss  any  large  question  of  morals  or 
politics ,  scarcely  one  whose  writings  do  not  indicate  either  ex- 
treme feebleness  or  extreme  flightiness  of  mind.  Those  who 
distrust  the  judgment  of  a  Whig  on  this  point  will  probably  al- 
low some  weight  to  the  opinion  which  was  expressed,  many 
years  after  the  Ilevolution,  by  a  philosopher  of  whom  the  Tories 
are  justly  proud.  Johnson ,  after  passing  in  review  the  cele- 
brated divines  who  had  thought  it  sinful  to  sM-ear  allegiance  to 
William  the  Third  and  George  the  First,  pronounced  that,  in 

•  Seo  Turner's  Letter  to  Sancroft,  dated  on  Ascension  Day,  ]G8i).  The 
orif^inal  is  among  the  Tminer  MSS.  in  the  I5odlclan  Library.  But  the  letter 
will  bo  found  with  much  other  curious  matter  in  the  Life  of  Ken  by  a  Lay- 
man, lately  published.  See  also  the  Life  of  KettlewcU,  iii.  95.;  and  Ken's 
letter  to  Burnet,  dated  Oct.  6.  Ifi89,  in  Uawkins's  Life  of  Ken.  "I  am 
snro,"  Lady  Russell  wrote  to  Dr.  Fitzwilliam,  "the  Bishop  of  Batli  and 
Wells  excited  others  to  comply,  when  ho  could  not  bring  himself  to  do  so, 
but  rejoiced  when  others  did."  Ken  declared  that  he  had  advised  nobody 
to  take  the  oaths,  and  that  his  practice  had  been  to  remit  those  who  asked 
his  advice  to  their  own  studies  and  prayers.  Lady  KusseU's  assertion  and 
Ken's  denial  will  be  found  to  como  nearly  to  tlie  same  thing,  when  we 
make  those  allowances  which  ought  to  be  made  for  situation  and  feeling, 
even  in  weighing  tlie  testimony  of  the  most  veracious  witnesses.  Ken, 
having  at  last  determined  to  cast  in  his  lot  with  the  nonjurors,  naturally 
tried  to  vindicate  his  consistency  as  far  as  he  honestly  could.  Lady  Russell, 
wishing  to  induce  her  friend  to  take  the  oaths,  naturally  made  as  much  of 
Ken's  disposition  to  compliance  as  she  honestly  could.  She  went  too  far  in 
using  the  word  "excited."  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  clear  that  Ken,  by 
remitting  those  who  consulted  him  to  their  own  studies  and  prayers,  gave 
them  to  understand  that,  in  his  opinion,  the  oath  was  lawful  to  those  who, 
after  a  serious  inquiry,  tliought  it  lawful.  If  people  had  asked  him  whether 
they  might  lawfully  commit  perjury  or  adultery,  he  would  assuredly  have 
told  them,  not  to  consider  the  point  maturely  and  to  implore  the  divino 
direction,  but  to  abstain  on  peril  of  their  souls. 

\\1LL1A.U    A^H    ilAKVr.  121 

the  whole  body  of  nonjurors,  there  was  one,  and  one  only,  who    cmap. 
could  reason.*  -  .^■■- 

I  OH  J. 

The  nonjuror  in  whose  favour  Johnson  nKulo  this  exception  Leslie 
was  Charles  Leslie.  Leslie  had,  before  the  Revolution,  been 
C'hancellor  of  the  diocese  of  Connor  in  Ireland.  He  had  been 
forward  in  opposition  to  'l'}Tconnel;  had,  as  a  justice  of  the 
]>eace  for  Moiiaghan,  refused  to  acknowledge  a  pajiist  as  SheriH" 
uf  that  county;  and  had  been  so  courageous  as  to  send  suiiic 
ofHcers  of  the  Irish  army  to  prison  for  marauding.  But  the 
doctrine  of  nomesistance,  such  as  it  had  been  taughtby  Anglican 
divines  in  the  days  of  the  llye  House  Plot,  was  immovably  fixed 
in  his  mind.  'When  the  state  of  Ulster  became  sucli  that  a  Pro- 
testant who  remained  there  could  hardly  avoid  being  either  a 
rebel  or  a  mart)T,  Leslie  fled  to  London.  His  abilities  and  his 
connections  were  such  that  he  might  easily  have  obtained  high 
preferment  in  the  Clnnch  of  England.  But  he  took  his  place  in 
tlie  front  rank  of  the  Jacobite  body,  and  remained  there  sted- 
fastly,  through  all  the  dangers  and  vicissitudes  of  three  and 
thirty  troubled  years.  Though  constantly  engaged  in  theolo- 
gical controversy  with  Deists,  Jews,  yocinians,  Presbyterians, 

•  Sec  the  conversation  of  June  9.  1784,  in  HoswcH'b  Life  of  Jolmson, 
and  the  note.  Hoswell,  with  liis  usual  absurdity,  is  sure  that  Johnson 
could  not  have  recollected  "that  the  seven  bishops,  so  Justly  celebrated  for 
their  niagn.inimous  resistance  to  arbitrary  power,  were  yet  nonjurors." 
Only  five  of  the  seven  were  nonjurors;  and  anybody  but  Boswell  would 
have  known  that  a  man  may  resist  arbitrary  power,  and  yet  not  be  .i  good 
rcasoner.  Nay,  the  resistance  which  Bancroft  and  the  otlier  nonjuring 
bishops  offered  to  arbitrary  power,  while  they  continued  to  hold  the  doc- 
trine of  nonresistance  ,  is  the  most  decisive  proof  that  they  were  incapable 
of  reasoning.  It  must  be  remembered  that  they  were  prepared  to  take  the 
whole  kinj-'ly  power  from  James  and  to  bestow  it  on  William,  with  the  title 
of  KogL'nt.     Their  scruple  was  merely  abiuit  the  word  King. 

I  am  surprised  that  Johnson  should  have  pronounced  William  Law  no 
reasoner.  Law  did  indeed  fall  into  great  errors;  but  they  were  errors 
against  which  logic  affords  no  security.  In  mere  dialectical  skill  he  had 
very  fow  superiors-  That  ho  was  more  than  once  victorious  over  Ilondlcy 
no  candid  Whig  will  deny.  Cut  Law  did  not  belong  to  tho  generation  witli 
which  I  have  now  to  do. 



122  niSTORT   OF  ENGLAUP. 

CHAP.  Papists,  and  Quakers,  he  found  time  to  be  one  of  the  most  vo- 
luminous politicahvriters  of  his  age.  Of  all  the  nonjuring  clergy 
he  was  the  best  qualified  to  discuss  constitutional  questions. 
For,  before  he  had  taken  orders,  he  had  resided  long  in  the 
Temple,  and  had  been  studying  English  history  and  law,  while 
most  of  the  other  chiefs  of  the  schism  had  been  poring  over  the 
Acts  of  Chalcedon,  or  seeking  for  wisdom  in  the  Targima  of 
Sherlock.  InlG89,  howevcr,  Leslie  was  almost  unknown  in  England. 
Among  the  divines  who  incurred  suspension  on  the  first  of 
August  in  that  year,  the  highest  in  popular  estimation  was 
without  dispute  Doctor  William  Sherlock.  Perhaps  no  simple 
presbyter  of  the  Church  of  England  has  ever  possessed  a  gi'eater 
authority  over  his  brethren  than  belonged  to  Sherlock  at  the 
time  of  the  Revolution.  He  was  not  of  the  first  rank  among  his 
contemporaries  as  a  scholar,  as  a  preacher,  as  a  writer  on 
theology,  or  as  a  writer  on  politics:  but  in  all  the  four  charac- 
ters he  had  distinguished  himself.  The  perspicuity  and  live- 
liness of  his  style  have  been  praised  by  Prior  and  Addison.  The 
facility  and  assiduity  with  which  he  wrote  are  sufficiently  proved 
by  the  bulk  and  the  dates  of  his  works.  There  were  indeed 
among  the  clergy  men  of  brighter  genius  <and  men  of  wider  at- 
tainments: but  during  a  long  period  there  was  none  who  more 
completely  represented  the  order,  none  who,  on  all  subjects, 
spoke  more  precisely  the  sense  of  the  Anglican  priesthood, 
without  any  taint  of  Latitudinarianism,  of  Puritanism,  or  of 
Popery.  He  had,  in  the  days  of  the  Exclusion  Bill,  when  the 
power  of  the  dissenters  was  very  great  in  Parliament  and  in  the 
countrj',  written  strongly  against  the  sin  of  nonconformity. 
When  the  Rye  House  Plot  was  detected,  he  had  zealously  de- 
fended by  tongue  and  pen  the  doctrine  of  nonresistance.  His 
services  to  the  cause  of  episcopacy  and  monarchy  were  sohighly 
•  Ware'a  History  of  the  Wiitera  of  Ireland,  continued  by  Harris. 

WIT.TJAM   ANt)    MART.  123 

valued  that  he  was  made  master  of  the  Temple.  A  pension  was  nn?, 
also  hestowed  on  him  by  Charles:  but  that  pension  James  soon  —j^ 
took  away;  for  Sherlock,  though  he  held  himself  bound  to  pay 
passive  obedience  to  the  civil  power,  held  himself  equally 
bound  to  combat  religious  errors,  and  was  the  keenest  and  most 
laborious  of  that  host  of  controversialists  who,  in  the  day  of 
peril,  manfully  defended  the  Protestant  faith.  In  little  more 
than  two  years  he  published  sixteen  treatises,  some  of  them 
large  books,  against  the  high  pretensions  of  Rome.  Not  con- 
tent with  the  easy  victories  which  he  gained  over  such  feeble 
antagonists  as  those  who  were  quartered  at  Clerkenwell  and  the 
Savoy,  he  had  the  courage  to  measure  his  strength  ^vith  no  less 
a  champion  than  Bossuet,  and  came  out  of  the  conflict  without 
discredit.  Nevertheless  Sherlock  still  continued  to  maintain 
that  no  oppression  could  justify  Christians  in  resisting  the 
kingly  authority.  When  the  Convention  was  about  to  meet,  he 
strongly  recommended,  in  a  tract  which  was  considered  as  the 
manifesto  of  a  large  part  of  the  clergy,  that  James  should  be 
invited  to  return  on  such  conditions  as  might  secure  the  laws 
and  religion  of  the  nation.*  The  vote  which  placed  "William  and 
Mary  on  the  throne  fdled  Sherlock  with  sorrow  and  anger.  He 
is  said  to  have  exclaimed  that  if  the  Convention  was  determined 
on  ft  revolution,  the  clergy  would  find  forty  thousand  good 
Churchmen  to  effect  a  restoration.**  Against  the  new  oaths  he 
gave  his  opinion  plainly  and  wamily.  lie  declared  himself  at  a 
loss  to  understand  how  any  honest  man  could  doubt  that,  by  the 
powers  that  be.  Saint  Paul  meant  legitimate  powers  and  no 
others.  No  name  was  in  1 6S9  cited  by  the  Jacobites  so  proudly 
and  fondly  as  that  of  Sherlock.  Before  the  end  of  IGOO  that 
name  excited  very  different  feelings. 

•  Letter  to  o  member  of  the  Convention,  1G89. 

••  Johnson's  Notes  on  tho  Phoenix  Edition  of  Burnet's  Pastoral  Leller, 

124  HISTOKI   Ol'  £i!lGLANX>. 

ciiAf.  A  few  other  nonjurors  ou^ht  to  be  particularly  noticed. 
■  ^'^"  -High  among  them  in  rank  was  George  Hickes,  Dean  of  Wor- 
Hickcs.  cester.  Of  all  the  Englishmen  of  his  time  he  was  the  most 
versed  in  the  old  Teutonic  languages;  and  his  knowledge  of  the 
early  Christian  literature  was  extensive.  As  to  his  capacity  for 
political  discussions,  it  may  be  sufficient  to  say  that  his  favourite 
argument  for  passive  obedience  was  drawn  from  the  story  of  the 
Theban  legion.  He  was  the  younger  brother  of  that  unfortunate 
John  Hickes  who  had  been  found  hidden  in  the  malthouse  of 
Alice  Lisle.  James  had,  in  spite  of  all  solicitation,  put  both 
John  Hickes  and  Alice  Lisle  to  death.  Persons  who  did  not 
know  the  strength  of  the  Dean's  principles  thought  that  he 
might  possibly  feel  some  resentment  on  this  account:  for  he  was 
of  no  gentle  or  forgiving  temper,  and  could  retain  during  many 
years  a  bitter  remembrance  of  small  injuries.  But  he  was  strong 
in  his  religious  and  political  faith:  he  reflected  that  the  suff"erers 
were  dissenters;  and  he  submitted  to  the  will  of  the  Lord's 
Anointed  not  only  with  patience  but  with  complacency.  He 
became  indeed  a  more  loving  subject  than  ever  from  the  time 
when  his  brother  was  hanged  and  his  brother's  benefactress 
beheaded.  \Miile  almost  all  other  clergjinen,  appalled  by  the 
Declaration  of  Indulgence  and  by  the  proceedings  of  the  High 
Commission,  were  beginning  to  think  that  they  had  pushed  the 
doctrine  of  nonresistance  a  little  too  far,  he  was  writing  a  vin- 
dication of  his  darling  legend,  and  trying  to  convince  the  troops 
at  Hounslow  that,  if  James  should  be  pleased  to  massacre  them 
all ,  as  Maximian  had  massacred  the  Theban  legion ,  for  refusing 
to  commit  idolatry,  it  woidd  be  their  duty  to  pile  their  arms, 
and  meekly  to  receive  the  crown  of  martyrdom.  To  do  Hickes 
justice,  his  whole  conduct  after  the  Revolution  proved  that  his 
servility  had  sprung  neither  from  fear  nor  from  cupidity,  but 
from  mere  bigotry.* 

•  The  beat  notion  of  Ilickcs's    character  will   be   formed  from   his 

wnj.IAM   AND   MAET.  125 

Jeremy  Collier,  who  was  turned  out  of  tlie  preaclicrship  of   chap. 
the  llolls,   was  a  man  of  a  much  higher  order.     He  is  well- 


entitled  to  grateful  and  resjiectful  mention:  for  to  his  eloquence  coiiicr. 
and  courage  is  to  be  chiefly  ascribed  the  purification  of  our 
lighter  literature  from  that  foul  taint  which  had  been  contracted 
(luring  the  Antipuritan  reaction.  lie  was,  in  the  full  force  of 
the  words,  a  good  man.  He  was  also  a  man  of  eminent  abilities, 
a  great  master  of  sarcasm,  a  great  master  of  rhetoric*  His 
reading  too,  though  undigested,  was  of  immense  extent.  But 
his  mind  was  narrow:  his  reasoning,  even  when  he  was  so  for- 
tunate as  to  have  a  good  cause  to  defend,  was  singularly  futile 
and  inconclusive;  and  his  brain  was  almost  tiu'ned  by  pride, 
not  personal,  but  professional.  In  his  view,  a  priest  was  the 
highest  of  human  beings,  except  a  bishop.  Keverence  and 
submission  were  due  from  the  best  and  greatest  of  the  laity  to 
the  least  respectable  of  the  clergy.  However  ridiculous  a  man 
in  holy  orders  might  make  himself,  it  was  impiety  to  laugh  at 
him.  So  ners-ously  sensitive  indeed  was  Collier  on  this  point 
that  he  thought  it  profane  to  throw  any  reflection  even  on  the 
ministers  of  false  religions.  He  laid  it  down  as  a  rule  that 
Muftis  and  Augurs  ought  always  to  be  mentioned  with  respect. 
He  blamed  Dryden  for  sneering  at  the  Hierophants  of  Apis.  He 
praised  Racine  for  giving  dignity  to  the  character  of  a  priest  of 
liaal.  He  praised  Comeille  for  not  bringing  that  learned  and 
revei-end  divine  Tiresias  on  the  stage  in  the  tragedy  of  Qildipus. 
The  omission,  Collier  owned,  spoiled  the  dramatic  effect  of  the 

niimcroiis  controversial  writing's,  particularly  his  Jovian,  written  in  1084, 
Ilia  Thebffian  Legion  no  Fable,  written  in  1CS7,  fhoiiKh  not  publislicd  till 
1714,  and  liia  discourses  upon  Dr.  Burnet  and  Dr.  Tillotson,  1695,  Llis 
literary  fame  rests  on  works  of  a  very  different  kind. 

•  Collier's  Tracts  on  the  Stage  are,  on  the  whole,  his  best  pieces. 
Rut  there  is  much  that  is  striking  in  his  political  pamphlets.  His  "i'er- 
suasivc  to  Consideration,  tendercil  to  the  Royalists,  particularly  those  of 
Iho  Church  of  England,"  seems  to  nic  one  of  the  beat  productions  of  the 
Jacobite  press. 

126  HISTOlir    Oi!^  KNGLAKD. 

CHAP,  piece :  but  tlie  holy  function  was  much  too  solemn  to  be  played 
^'^'    with.    Nay,  incredible  as  it  may  seem,  he  thought  it  improper 


in  the  laity  to  sneer  at  Presbyterian  preachers.  Indeed  his  Ja- 
cobitism  was  little  more  than  one  of  the  forms  in  which  his  zeal 
for  the  dignity  of  his  profession  manifested  itself.  He  abhorred 
the  Revolution  less  as  a  rising  up  of  subjects  against  their  King 
than  as  a  rising  up  of  the  laity  against  the  sacerdotal  caste.  The 
doctrines  which  had  been  proclaimed  from  the  pulpit  during 
thirty  years  had  been  treated  with  contempt  by  the  Convention. 
A  new  government  had  been  set  up  in  opposition  to  the  wishes 
of  the  spiritual  peers  in  the  House  of  Lords  and  of  the  priesthood 
through(jut  the  country.  A  secular  assembly  had  taken  upon 
itself  to  pass  a  law  requiring  archbishops  and  bishops,  rectors 
and  vicars,  to  abjure,  on  pain  of  deprivation,  what  they  had 
been  teaching  all  their  Uves.  "Whatever  meaner  spirits  might 
do,  Collier  was  determined  not  to  be  led  in  triumph  by  the 
victorious  enemies  of  his  order.  To  the  last  he  would  confront, 
with  the  authoritative  port  of  an  ambassador  of  heaven,  the 
anger  of  the  powers  and  principalities  of  the  earth. 
Dodweii.  In  parts  Collier  was  the  first  man  among  the  nonjurors.  In 
erudition  the  first  place  must  be  assigned  to  Henry  Dodwell, 
who,  for  the  unpardonable  crime  of  having  a  small  estate  in 
Mayo,  had  been  attainted  by  the  Popish  Parliament  at  Dublin. 
He  was  Camdenian  Professor  of  Ancient  History  in  the  Univer- 
sity of  Oxford ,  and  had  already  acquired  considerable  celebrity 
by  chronological  and  geograpliical  researches:  but,  though  he 
never  could  be  persuaded  to  take  orders,  theology  was  his  fa- 
vourite study.  He  was  doubtless  a  pious  and  sincere  man.  He 
had  perused  innumerable  volumes  in  various  languages,  and 
had  indeed  acquired  more  learning  than  his  slender  faculties 
were  able  to  bear.  The  small  intellectual  spark  which  he  pos- 
sessed was  put  out  by  the  fuel.  Some  of  his  books  seem  to  have 
been  written  in  a  madhouse,  and,  though  filled  with  proofs  of 

WILUAM  AHi)   WAHr.  127 

his  immense  reading,  degnvde  him  to  the  level  of  James  Naylor  crap. 
and  Ludowick  Mugj^'leton.  lie  began  a  dissertation  intended -^^^ 
tu  prove  that  the  law  of  nations  was  a  divine  revelation  made  to 
the  family  which  was  preserved  in  the  ark.  lie  published  a 
treatise  in  which  he  maintained  that  a  marriage  between  a 
member  of  the  Church  of  England  and  a  dissenter  was  a  nullity, 
and  that  the  couple  were,  in  the  sight  of  heaven,  guilty  of 
adultery.  He  defended  the  use  of  instrumental  music  in  public 
worship  on  the  ground  that  the  notes  of  the  organ  had  a  power 
to  counteract  the  influence  of  devils  on  the  spinal  marrow  of 
human  beings.  In  his  treatise  on  this  subject,  he  remarked 
that  there  was  high  authority  for  the  opinion  that  the  spinal 
marrow,  when  decomposed,  became  a  serpent.  Whether  this 
opinion  were  or  were  not  correct,  bethought  it  unnecessary  to 
decide,  Perhajjs,  he  said,  the  eminent  men  in  whose  works  it 
was  found  had  meant  only  to  express  figuratively  the  great 
truth,  that  the  Old  Serpent  operates  on  us  chiefly  through  the 
spinal  man-ow.*  Dodwell's  speculations  on  the  state  of  human 
beings  after  death  are,  if  possible,  more  extraordinary  still. 
He  tells  us  that  our  souls  are  naturally  mortal.  Annihilation  is 
the  fate  of  the  gieater  part  of  mankind,  of  heathens,  of  Maho- 
metans, of  unchristened  babes.  The  gift  of  immortality  is  con- 
veyed in  the  sacrament  of  baptism:  but  to  the  efficacy  of  the 
sacrament  it  is  absolutely  necessary  that  the  water  be  poured 
and  the  words  pronounced  by  a  priest  who  has  been  ordained  by 
abishop.  In  the  natural  course  of  things,  therefore,  all  Pres- 
bjterians,  Lidependents,  Baptists,  and  Quakers  would,  like 

•  See  Brokcsby's  Life  of  Dodwell.  The  Uiscourso  against  Marriages 
In  UifTcrcnt  Communions  Is  known  to  mc,  I  ought  to  say,  only  from 
Brokcsby's  copious  abstract.  That  Discourse  is  very  rare.  It  was  ori- 
ginally printed  as  a  preface  to  a  sermon  i)roached  by  Leblic.  When  Leslie 
collected  his  works  he  omitted  the  discourse,  probably  because  he  waa 
ashamed  of  it.  The  Treatise  on  the  Lawfulness  of  Instrumental  Music  I 
have  read;  aiid  incredibly  absurd  it  is. 


128  nrsTOKT  op  England, 

CFTAp.  the  inferior  animals,  cease  to  exist.  But  Dodwell  was  far  too 
■  good  a  churchman  to  let  off  dissenters  so  easily.  He  informs 
them  that,  as  they  have  had  an  opportunity  of  hearing  the 
gospel  preached,  and  might,  but  for  their  own  perverseness, 
have  received  episcopalian  baptism,  God  will,  by  an  extra- 
ordinary act  of  power,  bestow  immortality  on  them  in  order  that 
they  may  be  tormented  for  ever  and  ever.* 

No  man  abhorred  the  growing  latitudinarianism  of  those 
times  more  than  Dodwell.  Yet  no  man  had  more  reason  to 
rejoice  in  it.  For,  in  the  earlier  part  of  the  seventeenth  century, 
a  speculator  who  had  dared  to  affirm  that  the  human  soul  is  by 
its  nature  mortal,  and  does,  in  the  great  majority  of  cases, 
actually  die  with  the  body,  would  have  been  burned  alive  in 
Smithfield.  Even  in  days  which  Dodwell  could  well  remember, 
such  heretics  as  himself  would  have  been  thought  fortunate  if 
they  escaped  with  life,  their  backs  flayed,  their  ears  clipped, 
their  noses  slit,  their  tongues  bored  through  with  red  hot  iron, 
and  their  eyes  knocked  out  with  brickbats.  With  the  non- 
jurors, however,  the  author  of  this  theory  v/as  still  the  great 
Mr.  Dodwell;  and  some,  who  thought  it  culpable  lenity  to 
tolerate  a  Presbyterian  meeting,  thought  it  at  the  same  time 
gross  illiberality  to  blame  a  learned  and  pious  Jacobite  for 
denying  a  doctrine  so  utterly  unimportant  in  a  religious  point  of 
view  as  that  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul.** 

•  Dodwell  tells  us  that  the  title  of  the  work  In  which  he  first  pro- 
mulgatL'd  this  theory  was  framed  with  great  care  and  precision.  I  will 
therefore  transcribe  the  titlepage.  "An  Epistolary  Discourso  proving 
from  Scripture  and  the  First  Fathers  tliat  the  Soul  is  naturally  Mortal,  but 
Immortalized  actually  by  the  Pleasure  of  God  to  Punishment  or  to  Reward, 
by  Its  Union  with  the  Divine  Baptismal  Spirit,  wherein  is  proved  Ihat  none 
have  the  Power  of  giving  this  Divine  Immortalizing  Spirit  since  the 
Apostles  but  only  the  Bishops.  By  H.  Dodwell."  Dr.  Clarke,  in  a  Letter 
to  Dodwell  (1706),  says  that  this  Epistolary  Discourse  is  "a  book  at  which 
all  good  men  are  sorry,  and  all  profane  men  rejoice." 
•♦  See  Leslie's  Rehearsals,  No.  26fi,  287. 


Two  other  nonjurors  deserve  special  mention, less  on  account  chap. 
of  their  abilities  and  learning,  than  on  account  of  their  rare  ■  '  ■ 
integrity,  and  of  their  not  less  rare  candour.  These  •were  John  Keiii»- 
Kettlewell,  Rector  of  Coleshill,  and  John  Fitz\rilliam ,  Canon  "fiiifi',*" 
of  Windsor.  It  is  remarkable  that  both  these  men  had  seen 
much  of  Lord  Russell,  and  that  both,  though  differing  from 
him  in  political  opinions,  and  strongly  disapproving  the  part 
which  he  had  taken  in  the  "Whig  plot,  had  thought  highly  of 
his  character,  and  had  been  sincere  mourners  for  his  death. 
He  had  sent  to  Kettlewell  an  affectionate  message  from  the 
scaffold  in  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields.  Lady  Russell ,  to  her  latest 
day,  loved,  trusted,  and  revered Fitzwilliam,  -who,  when  she 
was  a  girl,  had  been  the  friend  of  her  father,  the  virtuous 
Southampton.  The  two  clergjTnen  agreed  in  refusing  to  swear: 
but  they,  from  that  moment,  took  different  paths.  Kettlewell 
was  one  of  the  most  active  members  of  his  party:  he  declined 
no  drudgery  in  the  common  cause,  provided  only  that  it  were 
such  drudgerj'  as  did  not  misbecome  an  honest  man;  and  he 
defended  his  opinions  in  several  tracts,  which  give  a  much  higher 
notion  of  his  sincerity  than  of  his  judgment  or  acuteness.* 
Fitzwilliam  thought  that  he  had  done  enough  in  quitting  his 
pleasant  dwelling  and  garden  under  the  shadow  of  Saint 
George's  Chapel,  and  in  betaking  himself  with  his  books  to 
a  small  lodging  in  an  attic.  He  could  not  with  a  safe  conscience 
acknowledge  William  and  Mary:  but  he  did  not  conceive  that 
he  was  bound  to  be  always  stirring  up  sedition  against  them; 
and  he  passed  the  last  years  of  his  life,  under  the  powerful 
protection  of  the  House  of  Bedford,  in  innocent  and  studious 

•  See  his  works,  and  the  highly  curious  life  of  him  which  was  compiled 
from  the  papers  of  his  friends  Hickes  and  Nelson. 

••  See  Fitzwilliam's  correspondence  with  Lady  Russell,  and  his  evidence 
on  the  trial  of  Ashton,  in  the  State  Trials.  The  only  work  which  Fitz- 
william,  as   far  as   I  have  been  able  to  discover,   ever  published  was  ft 

ilacnnla'i ,  Ifislory,  V.  9 


CHAP.        Among  the  less  distinguished  divines  who  forfeited  their 
^'^'    benefices,  were  doubtless  many  good  men:  but  it  is  certain 


General  that  the  moral  character  of  the  nonjurors,  as  a  class,  did  not 
of Ih"'"  Btand  high.  It  seems  hard  to  impute  laxity  of  principle  to 
no^njuring  pgrgons  who  Undoubtedly  made  a  great  sacrifice  to  principle. 
And  yet  experience  abundantly  proves  that  many  who  are 
capable  of  making  a  great  sacrifice,  when  their  blood  is  heated 
by  conflict,  and  when  the  public  eye  is  fixed  upon  them,  are 
not  capable  of  persevering  long  in  the  daily  practice  of  obscure 
virtues.  It  is  by  no  means  improbable  that  zealots  may  have 
given  their  lives  for  a  religion  which  had  never  eff'ectually 
restrained  their  vindictive  or  their  licentious  passions.  We  learn 
indeed  from  fathers  of  the  highest  authority  that,  even  in  the 
purest  ages  of  the  Church,  some  confessors,  who  had  manfully 
refused  to  save  themselves  from  torments  and  death  by  throwing 
frankincense  on  the  altar  of  Jupiter,  afterwards  brought  scandal 
on  the  Christian  name  by  gross  fraud  and  debauchery.*  For 
the  nonjuring  divines  great  allowance  must  in  fairness  be  made. 
They  were  doubtless  in  a  most  trying  situation.  In  general, 
a  schism,  which  divides  a  religious  community,  divides  the  laity 
as  well  as  the  clergy.  The  seceding  pastors  therefore  carry 
with  them  a  large  part  of  their  flocks,  and  are  consequently 
assured  of  a  maintenance.    But  the  schism  of  1689  scarcely 

sermon  on  the  Rye  House  Plot,  preached  a  few  weeks  after  Russell's  execu- 
tion. There  are  some  sentences  in  this  sermon  which  I  a  little  wonder  that 
the  widow  and  the  family  forgave. 

•  Cyprian,  in  one  of  his  Epistles,  addresses  the  confessors  thus: 
"Quosdam  audio  inflcere  numerum  vcstrum,  et  laudcm  prascipnl  nominis 
prava  sua  conversatione  destruere.  .  .  Cum  quanto  nominia  vestri  pudore 
delinquitur  quando  alius  aliquis  temulentus  et  lasciviens  demoratur;  alius 
in  earn  patriam  unde  extorris  est  regreditur,  ut  deprehensus  non  Jam  quasi 
Christianus ,  scd  quasi  nocens  pereat."  He  uses  still  stronger  language  in 
the  book  de  Unitate  Ecclesiae :  "Neqne  enim  confessio  immunem  facit  ab 
insidiis  diaboli,  ant  contra  tentationes  et  pericula  et  incnrsus  atque  impetus 
sEeculares  adbuc  in  sseculo  positnm  perpetua  securitate  defendit;  cseterum 
nunqnam  in  confessoribus  frandes  et  stupra  et  adulteria  postmodum  yide- 
lemus,  quee  nunc  in  quibusdam  videntes  ingemiscimus  et  dolemus." 

WILLIAM   AM)   MAUr.  131 

extended  beyond  the  clergy.  The  law  required  the  rector  to  chap. 
take  the  oaths,  or  to  quit  his  living:  but  no  oath,  no  acknow-  ^^^,j 
lodgment  of  the  title  of  the  new  King  and  Queen,  was  required 
from  the  parishioner  as  a  qualification  for  attending  divine  ser- 
vice, or  for  receiving  the  Eucharist.  Not  one  in  fifty,  therefore, 
of  those  lajTiien  who  disapproved  of  the  Revolution  thought 
himself  bound  to  quit  his  pew  in  the  old  church,  where  the  old 
liturgy  was  still  read,  and  where  the  old  vestments  were  still 
worn,  and  to  follow  the  ejected  priest  to  a  conventicle,  a  con- 
venticle, too,  which  was  not  protected  by  the  Toleration  Act. 
Thus  the  new  sect  was  a  sect  of  preachers  without  hearers;  and 
such  preachers  could  not  make  a  livelihood  by  preaching.  In 
London,  indeed,  and  in  some  other  large  to'wns,  those  vehement 
Jacobites,  whom  nothing  would  satisfy  but  to  hear  King  James 
and  the  Prince  of  AVales  prayed  for  by  name,  'were  sufficiently 
numerous  to  make  up  a  few  small  congregations,  which  met 
secretly,  and  under  constant  fear  of  the  constables,  in  rooms 
so  mean  that  the  meeting  houses  of  the  Puritan  dissenters  might 
by  comparison  be  called  palaces.  Even  Collier,  who  had  all 
the  qualities  which  attract  large  audiences,  was  reduced  to  be 
the  minister  of  a  little  knot  of  malecontents,  -whose  oratory  was 
on  a  second  floor  in  the  city.  But  the  nonjuring  clergymen  who 
were  able  to  obtain  even  a  pittance  by  officiating  at  such  places 
were  very  few.  Of  the  rest  some  had  independent  means :  some 
lived  by  literature:  one  or  two  practised  physic.  Thomas 
Wagstaffe,  for  example,  who  had  been  Chancellor  of  Lichfield, 
had  many  patients ,  and  made  himself  conspicuous  by  always 
visiting  them  in  full  canonicals.*  But  these  were  exceptions. 
Industrious  poverty  is  a  state  by  no  means  unfavourable  to 
virtue:  but  it  is  dangerous  to  be  at  once  poor  and  idle;  and  most 

•  Much  carious  information  about  tlie  nonjurors  will  be  found  In  tho 
Biographical  Memoirs  of  William  Bowycr,  printer,  which  forms  tho  first 
volume  of  Nichols's  Literary  Anecdotes  of  tho  eighteenth  century.  A  spe- 
oiuon  of  Wat'staffe'a  proscriptions  Is  In  the  Bodleian  Library. 




CHAP,  of  the  clergjTnen  who  had  refused  to  swear  found  themselvea 
'"^"  •  thrown  on  the  world  with  nothing  to  eat  and  with  nothing  to 
do.  They  naturally  became  beggars  and  loungers.  Considering 
themselves  as  martyrs  suffering  in  a  public  cause,  they  were  not 
ashamed  to  ask  any  good  churchman  for  a  guinea.  Most  of 
them  passed  their  lives  in  running  about  from  one  Tory  coffee- 
house to  another,  abusing  the  Dutch,  hearing  and  spreading 
reports  that  within  a  month  His  Majesty  would  certainly  be  on 
English  ground,  and  wondering  who  would  have  Salisbury  when 
Burnet  was  hanged.  During  the  session  of  Parliament  the 
lobbies  and  the  Court  of  Requests  were  crowded  with  deprived 
parsons,  asking  who  was  up,  and  what  the  numbers  were  on  the 
last  division.  Many  of  the  ejected  divines  became  domesticated, 
as  chaplains,  tutors  and  spiritual  directors,  in  the  houses  of 
opulent  Jacobites.  In  a  situation  of  this  kind,  a  man  of  pure 
and  exalted  character,  such  a  man  as  Ken  was  among  the 
nonjurors,  and  Watts  among  the  nonconformists,  may  preserve 
his  dignity,  and  may  much  more  than  repay  by  his  example  and 
his  instructions  the  benefits  which  he  receives.  But  to  a  person 
whose  virtue  is  not  high  toned  this  way  of  life  is  full  of  peril. 
If  he  is  of  a  quiet  disposition,  he  is  in  danger  of  sinking  into 
a  servile,  sensual,  drowsy  parasite.  If  he  is  of  an  active  and 
aspiring  nature,  it  may  be  feared  that  he  will  become  expert  in 
those  bad  arts  by  which,  more  easily  than  by  faithful  service, 
retainers  malce  themselves  agi-eeable  or  formidable.  To  discover 
the  weak  side  of  every  character,  to  flatter  every  passion  and 
prejudice,  to  sow  discord  and  jealousy  where  love  and  con- 
fidence ought  to  exist,  to  watch  the  moment  of  indiscreet 
openness  for  the  purpose  of  extracting  secrets  important  to  the 
prosperity  and  honour  of  families,  such  are  the  practices  by 
which  keen  and  restless  spirits  have  too  often  avenged  them- 
selves for  the  humiliation  of  dependence.  The  public  voice 
loudly  accused  many  nonjurors  of  requiting  the  hospitality  of 

•WILLIAM  AND  MAKr.  133 

their  benefactors  with  villany  as  black  as  that  of  the  h)i)ocrite    chap. 

depicted  in  the  masterpiece  of  Moliere.    Indeed,  when  Cibl)LT  ■^^^^g'■ 

undertook  to  adapt  that  noble  comedy  to  the  English  stage, 

he  made  his  Tartufi'e  a  nonjuror:  and  Johnson,  who  cannot  bu 

supposed  to  have  been  prejudiced  against  the  nonjurors,  frankly 

owned  that  Gibber  had  done  them  no  wrong.* 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  schism  caused  by  the  oaths 

would  have  been  far  more  formidable,  if,  at  this  crisis,  any 

extensive  change  had  been  made  in  the  government  or  in  the 

ceremonial  of  the  Established  Church.  It  is  a  highly  instructive 

fact  that   those  enlightened  and  tolerant  divines  who  most 

ardently  desux'd  such  a  change  afterguards  saw  reason  to  be 

thankful  that  their  favourite  project  had  failed. 

Whigs  and  Tories  had  in  the  late  Session  combined  to  get  The  piaa 
.     y       ,    „  ''of  Corn- 

rid  of  Nottingham  s  Comprehension  Bill  by  voting  an  addi-ess  prcheD- 

which  requested  the  King  to  refer  the  whole  subject  to  the 

•  Cibber's  play,  as  Gibber  wrote  it,  ceased  to  be  popular  when  the 
Jacobites  ceased  to  be  formidable,  and  is  now  known  only  to  the  curious. 
In  1768  BickerstalTe  altered  it  into  the  Hypocrite,  and  substituted  Dr.  Cant- 
well,  the  Methodist,  for  Dr.  Wolf,  the  Nonjuror.  "I  do  not  think,"  said 
Johnson,  "the  character  of  the  Hypocrite  Justly  applicable  to  the  Me- 
thodists; but  it  was  very  applicable  to  tlie  nonjurors."  Boswell  asked  him 
if  it  were  true  that  the  nonjuring  clergynitn  intrigued  with  tlie  wives  of 
their  patrons.  "I  am  afraid,"  said  Johnson,  "many  of  them  did."  This 
conversation  took  place  on  the  27th  of  March  1775.  It  was  not  merely  in 
careless  talk  that  Johnson  expressed  an  unfavourable  opinion  of  the 
nonjurors.  In  his  Life  of  Fcnton,  who  was  a  nonjuror,  are  these  remark- 
able words:  "  It  must  be  remembered  tliat  be  kejit  bis  name  unsullied,  and 
never  suffered  himself  to  be  reduced,  like  too  many  of  the  same  sect,  to 
mean  arts  and  dishonourable  shifts."  See  the  Character  of  a  Jacobite, 
Ifiae  Even  in  Kettlewoll's  Life,  compiled  from  the  papers  of  his  friends 
Uickes  and  Nelson,  will  be  found  admissions  wliicli  show  that,  very  soon 
after  tlie  schism,  some  of  the  nonjuring  clergy  fell  into  habits  of  idleness, 
dependence,  and  mendicancy,  wliich  lowered  the  character  of  the  whole 
party.  "Several  undeserving  persons,  who  are  always  tlie  most  confident, 
by  their  going  up  and  down,    did  much  prejudice  to  the  truly  deserving, 

whose   modesty  would  not  suffer  them  to   solicit  for  themselves 

Mr.  Kcttlewell  was  also  very  sensible  that  some  of  his  brethren  spent  too 
much  of  their  time  in  places  of  concourse  and  news,  by  depending  for  their 
subsistence  upon  those  whom  they  there  got  act^uaiuted  with," 


CHAP.  Convocation.  Burnet  foresaw  the  effect  of  this  vote.  The 
-^^^  whole  scheme,  he  said,  was  utterly  ruined.*  Many  of  his 
friends,  however,  thought  differently;  and  among  these  was 
Tiiiotson.  Tillotson.  Of  all  the  members  of  the  Low  Church  party 
Tillotson  stood  highest  in  general  estimation.  As  a  preacher, 
he  was  thought  by  his  contemporaries  to  have  surpassed  all 
rivals  living  or  dead.  Posterity  has  reversed  this  judgment. 
Yet  Tillotson  still  keeps  his  place  as  a  legitimate  English 
classic.  His  highest  flights  were  indeed  far  below  those  of 
Taylor,  of  Barrow,  and  of  South;  but  his  oratory  was  more 
correct  and  equable  than  theirs.  No  quaint  conceits,  no 
pedantic  quotations  from  Talmudists  and  scholiasts,  no  mean 
images,  buffoon  stories,  scurrilous  invectives,  ever  marred  the 
effect  of  his  grave  and  temperate  discourses.  His  reasoning 
was  just  sufficiently  profound  and  sufficiently  refined  to  be 
followed  by  a  popular  audience  with  that  slight  degree  of  in- 
tellectual exertion  which  is  a  pleasure.  His  style  is  not 
brilliant;  but  it  is  pure,  transparently  clear,  and  equally  free 
from  the  levity  and  from  the  stiffness  which  disfigure  the  ser- 
mons of  some  eminent  divines  of  the  seventeenth  century.  He 
is  always  serious:  yet  there  is  about  his  manner  a  certain 
graceful  ease  which  marks  him  as  a  man  who  knows  the  world, 
who  has  lived  in  populous  cities  and  in  splendid  courts,  and 
who  has  conversed,  not  only  with  books,  but  with  lawyers  and 
merchants,  wits  and  beauties,  statesmen  and  princes.  The 
greatest  charm  of  his  compositions,  however,  is  derived  from 
the  benignity  and  candour  which  appear  in  every  line,  and 
which  shone  forth  not  less  conspicuously  in  his  life  th-an  in  his 

As  a  theologian,  Tillotson  was  certainly  not  less  latitudinarian 
than  Burnet.    Yet  many  of  those  clergymen  to  whom  Burnel 
was  an  object  of  implacable  aversion  spoke  of  Tillotson  with 
•  Reresby's  Memoirs ,  344. 

WILLIAM   AlTD   MABT.  135 

tenderness  and  respect.  It  is  therefore  not  strange  that  the  chap. 
two  friends  should  have  formed  different  estimates  of  the  temper  i^^  ~ 
of  the  priesthood,  and  should  have  expected  different  results 
from  the  meeting  of  the  Convocation.  Tillotson  v?as  not  dis- 
pleased with  the  vote  of  the  Commons.  He  conceived  that 
changes  made  in  roligious  institutions  by  mere  secular  authority 
might  disgust  many  churchmen,  who  would  yet  be  perfectly 
willing  to  vote,  in  nn  ecclesiastical  synod,  for  changes  more 
extensive  still;  and  his  opinion  had  great  weight  with  the 
King.*  It  was  resolved  that  the  Convocation  should  meet  at 
the  beginning  of  the  next  session  of  Parliament,  and  that  in  the 
meantime  a  commission  should  issue  empowering  some  eminent 
divines  to  examine  the  Liturgy,  the  canons,  and  the  whole 
system  of  jurisprudence  administered  by  the  Courts  Christian, 
and  to  report  on  the  alterations  which  it  might  be  desirable  to 

Most  of  the  Bishops  who  had  taken  the  oaths  were  in  thisAnEccie- 
commission;  and  with  them  were  joined  twenty  priests  of  great  commij- 
note.     Of  th*  twenty  Tillotson  was  the  most  important:  for  he  'jsued. 
was  known  to  speak  the  sense  both  of  the  King  and  of  the 
Queen.     Among   those    Commissioners   who   looked   up   to 
Tillotson  as  their  chief  were  Stillingfleet,  Dean  of  Saint  Paul's, 
Shar|i,    Dean  of  Norwich,    Patrick,    Dean  of  Peterborough, 
Tenison,  Rector  of  Saint  Martin's,  and  Fowler,  to  whose  judi- 
cious firmness  was  chiefly  to  be  ascribed  the  determination  of  the 
London  clergy  not  to  read  the  Declaration  of  Indulgence. 

With  such  men  as  those  who  have  been  named  were  mingled 
some  di^^nes  who  belonged  to  the  High  Church  party.  Con- 
spicuous among  these  were  two  of  the  rulers  of  Oxford,  Aldrich 
and  Jane.  Aldrich  had  recently  been  appointed  Dean  of 
Christchurch,  in  the  room  of  the  Papist  Massey,  whom  James 

♦  Birch's  Life  of  Tillotson. 
**  Seo  the  Discourse  cuncerning  the  Ecclesiastical  Commission,  1689. 


CHAP,  had,  in  direct  violation  of  the  laws,  placed  at  the  head  of  that 
^'^"  •  great  college.    The  new  Dean  was  a  polite,  though  not  a  pro- 


found,  scholar,  and  a  jovial,  hospitable  gentleman.  He  was 
the  author  of  some  theological  tracts  which  have  long  been 
forgotten,  and  of  a  compendium  of  logic  which  is  still  used: 
but  the  best  works  which  he  has  bequeathed  to  posterity  are  his 
catches.  Jane,  the  King's  Professor  of  Divinity,  was  a  graver 
but  a  less  estimable  man.  He  had  borne  the  chief  part  in 
framing  that  decree  by  which  his  University  ordered  the  works 
of  Milton  and  Buchanan  to  be  publicly  burned  in  the  Schools. 
A  few  years  later,  irritated  and  alarmed  by  the  persecution  of 
the  Bishops  and  by  the  confiscation  of  the  revenues  of  Magda- 
lene College,  he  had  renounced  the  doctrine  of  nonresistance, 
had  repaired  to  the  head  quarters  of  the  Prince  of  Orange,  and 
had  assured  His  Highness  that  Oxford  would  willingly  coin  her 
plate  for  the  support  of  the  war  against  her  oppressor.  During 
a  short  time  Jane  was  generally  considered  as  a  Whig,  and  was 
Bharply  lampooned  by  some  of  his  old  allies.  He  was  so  un- 
fortunate as  to  have  a  name  which  was  an  excellent  mark  for  the 
learned  punsters  of  his  university.  Several  epigrams  were 
written  on  the  doublefaced  Janus,  who,  having  got  a  pro- 
fessorship by  looking  one  way,  now  hoped  to  get  a  bishopric 
by  looking  another.  That  he  hoped  to  get  a  bishopric  was 
perfectly  true.  He  demanded  the  see  of  Exeter  as  a  reward 
due  to  his  services.  He  was  refused.  The  refusal  convinced 
him  that  the  Church  had  as  much  to  apprehend  from  Latitu- 
dinarianism  as  from  Popery;  and  he  speedily  became  a  Tory 
Proceed-        Early  in  October  the  Commissioners  assembled  in   the 

mgs  of  •' 

the  Cora- Jerusalem  Chamber.    At  their  first  meeting  they  determined 


to  propose  that,  in  the  public  services  of  the  Church,  lessons 

•  Birch's  Life  of  Tillotson;  Life  o^  Pridcaux;  Gentleman's  Magazine 
for  June  and  July,  1745. 

V\lil,IAM   AND   MAIiT.  137 

taken  from  the  canonical  books  of  Scripture  should  be  substi-  chap 
tuted  for  the  lessons  taken  from  the  Apocrypha.*  At  the— j^^ 
second  meeting  a  strange  question  was  raised  by  the  very  last 
person  who  ought  to  have  raised  it.  Sprat,  Bishop  of 
Rochester,  had,  without  any  scruple,  sate,  during  two  years, 
in  the  unconstitutional  tribunal  which  had,  in  the  late  reign, 
oppressed  and  pillaged  the  Church  of  which  he  was  a  ruler. 
But  he  had  now  become  scrupulous,  and  expressed  a  doubt 
whether  the  commission  were  legal.  To  a  plain  understanding 
his  objections  seem  to  be  mere  quibbles.  The  commission 
gave  power  neither  to  make  laws  nor  to  administer  laws,  but 
6imi)ly  to  inquire  and  to  report.  Even  without  a  royal  com- 
mission Tillotson,  Patrick,  and  Stillingfleet  might,  with  perfect 
propriety,  have  met  to  discuss  the  state  and  prospects  of  the 
Church,  and  to  consider  whether  it  would  or  would  not  be 
desirable  to  make  some  concession  to  the  dissenters.  And  how 
could  it  be  a  crime  for  subjects  to  do  at  the  request  of  their 
Sovereign  that  which  it  would  have  been  innocent  and  laudable 
for  them  to  do  without  any  such  request?  Sprat  however  was 
seconded  by  Jane.  There  was  a  shaqi  altercation;  and  Lloyd, 
Bishop  of  Saint  Asaph,  who,  with  many  good  qualities,  had  an 
irritable  temper,  was  provoked  into  saying  something  about 
spies.  Sprat  withdrew  and  came  no  more.  Ilis  example  was 
soon  followed  by  Jane  and  Aldrich.**  The  commissioners  pro- 
ceeded to  take  into  consideration  the  question  of  the  posture 
at  the  Eucharist.  It  was  determined  to  recommend  that  a 
communicant,  who,  after  conference  with  his  minister,  should 
declare  that  he  could  not  conscientiously  receive  the  bread  and 
wine  kneeling,  might  receive  them  sitting.     Mew,  Bishop  of 

•  Diary  of  the  Proceedings  of  the  Commissioners,   taken  by  Dr.  Wil- 
liams, afterwards  Bishop  of  Cliichester,  one  of  the  Comniissioners,  every 
night  after  he  went  homo  from  the  several  mcetinirs.    'I'liia  most  curious 
Diary  was  printed  by  order  of  the  House  of  Commons  in  1854. 
••  Williams"*  Diary. 



CHAP.  Winchester,  an  honest  man,  but  illiterate,  weak  even  in  his 
^'^'  ■  best  days,  and  now  fast  sinking  into  dotage,  protested  against 
this  concession,  and  withdrew  from  the  assembly.  The  other 
members  continued  to  apply  themselves  vigorously  to  their 
task:  and  no  more  secessions  took  place,  though  there  were 
great  differences  of  opinion,  and  though  the  debates  were  some- 
times warm.  The  highest  churchmen  who  still  remained  were 
Doctor  William  Beveridge,  Archdeacon  of  Colchester,  who 
many  years  later  became  Bishop  of  Saint  Asaph,  and  Doctor 
John  Scott,  the  same  who  had  prayed  by  the  deathbed  of 
Jeffreys.  The  most  active  among  theLatitudinarians  appear  to 
have  been  Burnet,  Fowler,  and  Tenison. 

The  baptismal  service  was  repeatedly  discussed.  As  to 
matter  of  form  the  Commissioners  were  disposed  to  be  in- 
dulgent. They  were  generally  willing  to  admit  infants  into  the 
Church  without  sponsors  and  without  the  sign  of  the  cross. 
But  the  majority,  after  much  debate,  steadily  refused  to  soften 
down  or  explain  away  those  words  which,  to  all  minds  not 
sophisticated,  appear  to  assert  the  regenerating  virtue  of  the 
sacrament.  * 

As  to  the  surplice,  the  Commissioners  determined  to  recom- 
mend that  a  large  discretion  should  be  left  to  the  Bishops. 
Expedients  were  devised  by  which  a  person  who  had  received 
Presbyterian  ordination  might,  without  admitting,  either 
expressly  or  by  implication,  the  invalidity  of  that  ordination, 
become  a  minister  of  the  Church  of  England.** 

The  ecclesiastical  calendar  was  carefully  revised.  The  great 
festivals  were  retained.  But  it  was  not  thought  desirable  that 
Saint  Valentine,  Saint  Chad,  Saint  Swithin,  Saint  Edward 
Kingofthe  West  Saxons,  Saint Dunstan ,  and  Saint  Alphage, 
should  share  the  honours  of  Saint  John  and  Saint  Paul;  or  that 

•  Williams's  Diary. 
••  Ibid. 


the  Church  should  appear  to  class  the  ridiculous  fable  of  the    chap. 
discovery  of  the  cross  with  facts  so  awfully  im])ortant  as  the  -  ,^3,7- 
Nativity,  the  Passion,  the  Resurrection,  and  the  Ascension  of 
her  Lord.* 

The  Athanasian  Creed  caused  much  perplexity.  Most  of 
the  Commissioners  were  equally  unwilling  to  give  up  the  doc- 
trinal clauses  and  to  retain  the  damnatory  clauses.  Rumet, 
Fowler,  and  Tillotson  were  desirous  to  strike  this  famous 
symbol,  out  of  the  liturgy  altogether.  Burnet  brought  forward 
one  argument,  which  to  himself  probably  did  not  appear  to 
have  much  weight,  but  which  was  admirably  calculated  to  per- 
plex his  opponents,  Beveridge  and  Scott.  The  Council  of 
Ephesus  had  always  been  reverenced  by  Anglican  divines  as  a 
synod  which  had  truly  represented  the  whole  body  of  the  faith- 
ful, and  which  had  been  divinely  guided  in  the  way  of  truth. 
The  voice  of  that  Council  was  the  voice  of  the  Holy  Catholic 
and  Apostolic  Church,  not  yet  corrupted  by  superstition,  or 
rent  asunder  by  schism.  During  more  than  twelve  centuries 
the  world  had  not  seen  an  ecclesiastical  assembly  which  had  an 
equal  claim  to  the  respect  of  believers.  The  Council  of 
Ephesus  had,  in  the  plainest  terras,  and  under  the  most  terrible 
penalties,  forbidden  Christians  to  frame  or  to  impose  on  their 
brethren  any  creed  other  than  the  creed  settled  by  the  Nicene 
Fathers.  It  should  seem  therefore  that,  if  the  Council  of 
Ephesus  was  really  under  the  direction  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
whoever  uses  the  Athanasian  Creed  must,  in  the  very  act  of  ut- 
tering an  anathema  against  his  neighbours,  bring  down  an 
anathema  on  his  own  head.**  In  spite  of  the  authority  of  the 

•  See  the  alterationa  in  the  Book  of  Oomniou  Prayer  prepared  by  the 
Royal  Commissionera  for  the  revision  of  the  Liturgy  in  1683,  and  printed 
by  order  of  the  House  of  Commons  In  1854. 

••  It  is  difficult  to  conceive  stronger  or  clearer  language  than  that  nsed 
by  tho  Coiinril.  Tovtmt  tolrvv  ivaYyojafihraiv ,  tSQiarv  ij  ayln  av*o3o(, 
iiioax  nlariv  utjiUvl  i^iTrai  nqoatptqiiv ,  r\yovv  avyyqtiifnv ,  q  av^tl^ha^^ 



CHAP.  Ephesian  Fathers,  the  majority  of  the  Commissioners  de- 
•termiiied  to  leave  the  Athanasian  Creed  in  the  Pi'ayer  Book; 
but  they  proposed  to  add  a  rubric  drawn  up  by  Stilliugfleet, 
which  declared  that  the  damnatory  clauses  were  to  be  under- 
stood to  apply  only  to  such  as  obstinately  denied  the  substance 
of  the  Christian  Faith.  Orthodox  believei's  were  therefore  per- 
mitted to  hope  that  the  heretic  who  had  honestly  and  humbly 
sought  for  truth  would  not  be  everlastingly  punished  foj  having 
failed  to  find  it.* 

Tenison  was  intrusted  with  the  business  of  examining  the 
Litui-gy  and  of  collecting  all  those  expi-essions  to  which  objec- 
tions had  been  made,  either  by  theological  or  by  literary  critics. 
It  was  determined  to  remove  some  obvious  blemishes.  And  it 
would  have  been  wise  in  the  Commissioners  to  stop  here.  Un- 
fortunately they  determined  to  rewrite  a  great  part  of  the 
Prayer  Book.  It  was  a  bold  undertaking;  for  in  general  the 
style  of  that  volume  is  such  as  cannot  be  improved.  The  Eng- 
lish Liturgy  indeed  gains  by  being  compared  even  with  those 
fine  ancient  Liturgies  from  Avhich  it  is  to  a  great  extent  taken. 
The  essential  qualities  of  devotional  eloquence,  conciseness, 
majestic  simplicity,  pathetic  earnestness  of  supplication, 
sobered  by  a  profound  reverence,  are  common  between  the 
translations  and  the  originals.  But  in  the  subordinate  graces 
of  diction  the  originals  must  be  allowed  to  be  far  inferior  to  the 
translations.  And  the  reason  is  obvious.  The  technical 
phraseology  of  Christianity  did  not  become  apart  of  the  Latin 
language  till  that  language  had  passed  the  age  of  matm'ity  and 

naqa  tf^v  oQia&slaav  naqa  tmv  ayLiav  natiqtov  twv  Iv  tfj  Nixaiwv 
avvtX96vtoiv  avv  ayli})  nrevi.iaTf  tovg  di  ■toX/.iwvras  ^  avrti9ivai  nlaxiv 
ktkqav,  riyovv  nQoxofilJ^tiv ,  yj  nQoacpiQeiv  rotg  i9iXovaiy  imatQitpsiv  tig 
inlyvojatv  trjs  dXij&eias,  i]  ii'EXhjviofiov,  rl  i^^IovSaiOfiov,  tj  i^  al(/iaau}S 
olaadijTtotovv,  tovtovg,  tl  fiiv  ehv  i/ilaxo/ioi  ij  xh'jQixoi,  aXlozfjlov?  tlvat 
toils  irtiaxonovg  tijs  iniaxonijs,  xa\  tuvg  xlyj^lxovg  tov  xXiiQov,  si  di  la'ixoi 
fUv,  dvad^enatl^sa&ai.  —  Concil.  Ephes.  Actio  VI. 

*  Williams's  Diary;  Alterations  iu  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer. 

•mXLTAM   AND   MARY.  141 

was  sinkin"'  into  bnrbarism.     But  the  technical  phraseolopy  of    niAP. 

T  XIV, 

Christianity  was  found  in  the  An;,dosaxon  and  in  the  Norman  -7^^ 
French,  long  before  the  union  of  those  two  dialects  had  pro- 
duced a  third  dialect  superior  to  either.  The  Latin  of  the 
Roman  Catholic  services,  therefore,  is  Latin  in  the  last  stage 
of  decay.  The  English  of  our  services  is  English  in  all  the 
vigour  and  suppleness  of  early  youth.  To  the  great  Latin 
writers,  to  Terence  and  Lucretius,  to  Cicero  and  Caesar,  to 
Tacitus  and  Quintilian,  the  noblest  compositions  of  Ambrose 
and  Gregorj'  would  have  seemed  to  be ,  not  merely  bad  -wTiting, 
but  senseless  gibberish.*  The  diction  of  our  Book  of  Common 
Prayer,  on  the  other  hand,  has  directly  or  indirectly  con- 
tributed to  form  the  diction  of  almost  every  great  English 
writer,  and  has  extorted  the  admiration  of  the  most  accom- 
plished infidels  and  of  the  most  accomplished  nonconformists, 
of  such  men  as  David  Hume  and  Robert  Hall. 

The  style  of  the  Liturgj',  however,  did  not  satisfy  the  Doc- 
tors of  the  Jerusalem  Chamber.  They  voted  the  Collects  too 
short  and  too  dry:  and  Patrick  was  intrusted  with  the  duty  of 
expanding  and  ornamenting  them.  In  one  respect,  at  least, 
the  choice  seems  to  have  been  unexceptionable;  for,  if  we 
judge  by  the  way  in  which  Patrick  paraphrased  the  most  sublime 
Hebrew  poetry,  we  shall  probably  be  of  opinion  that,  whether 
he  was  or  was  not  qualified  to  make  the  collects  better,  no 
man  that  ever  lived  was  more  competent  to  make  them 

•  It  is  curious  to  consider  how  tho^e  great  masters  of  the  Latin  tongua 
who  used  to  sup  with  Mscenas  and  Pollio  would  have  been  perplexed  by 
"Tibi  Cherubim  et  Seraphim  incessablll  voce  proclamant,  Sanctus,  Sanctus, 
Sanctus,  Dominus  Dcus  Sabaotht"  or  by  "Ideo  cum  angelis  et  archangelis, 
cum  thronis  et  dominationibus." 

••  I  wiP  give  two  specimens  of  Patrick's  workmanship.  "Tie  taakefh 
me,"  says  David,  "to  lie  down  in  green  pastures:  he  leadeth  me  beside  the 
still  waters."  Patrick's  version  is  as  foUowa;  "For  as  a  good  shepherd 
leads  his  sheep  in  the  violent  heat  to  shady  places,  where  they  may  II4 

14.2  jusioBr  OS  dkgland. 

CHAP,        It  mattered  little,  however,  whether  the  recommendations 



of  the  Commission  were  good  or  bad.    They  were  all  doomed 
The  Con-  before  they  were  known.    The  writs  summoning  the  Convoca- 
orihe""  tiou  of  the  province  of  Canterbury  had  been  issued;  and  the 
of  earner-  c^^'^gY  '^^^^  every  where  in  a  state  of  violent  excitement.    They 
^""■yf""- had  just  taken  the  oaths,  and  were  smarting  from  the  earnest 
Temper    rcproofs  of  nonjuroTS,  from  the  insolent  taunts  of  Whigs,  and 
Clergy,    often  Undoubtedly  from  the  stings  of  remorse.    The  announce- 
ment that  a  Convocation  was  to  sit  for  the  purpose  of  de- 
liberating on  a  plan  of  comprehension  roused  all  the  strongest 
passions  of  the  priest  who  had  just  complied  with  the  law,  and 
was  ill  satisfied  or  half  satisfied  with  himself  for  complying.    He 
had  an  opportimity  of  contributing  to  defeat  a  favourite  scheme 
of  that  government  which  had  exacted  from  him ,  under  severe 
penalties ,  a  submission  not  easily  to  be  reconciled  to  his  con- 
science or  his  pride.     He  had  an  opportunity  of  signalising  his 
zeal  for  that  Church  whose  characteristic  doctrines  he  had  been 
accused  of  deserting  for  lucre.    She  was  now,  he  conceived, 
threatened  by  a  danger  as  great  as  that  of  the  preceding  year. 
The  Latitudinarians  of  1689  were  not  less  eager  to  humble  and 
to  ruin  her  than  the  Jesuits  of  1688.     The  Toleration  Act  had 
done  for  the  Dissenters  quite  as  much  as  was  compatible  with 
her  dignity  and  security;  and  nothing  more  ought  to  be  con- 
down  and  feed  (not  in  parched,  but)  In  fresh  and  green  pastures,  and  in  the 
evening  leads  them  (not  to  muddy  and  troubled  waters,   but)  to  pure  and 
quiet  streams;  so  hath  he  already  made  a  fair  and  plentiful  provision  for 
me,  which  I  enjoy  in  peace  without  any  disturbance." 

In  the  Song  of  Solomon  is  an  exquisitely  beautiful  verse.  "I  charge 
you,  O  daughters  of  Jerusalem,  if  ye  find  my  beloved,  that  ye  toll  him  that 
lam  sick  of  love."  Patriclc's  version  runs  thus:  "So  I  turned  myself  to 
those  of  my  neighbours  and  familiar  acquaintance  who  were  awakened  by 
my  cries  to  come  and  see  what  the  matter  was;  and  conjured  them,  as  they 
would  answer  it  to  God,  that,  if  they  met  with  my  beloved,  they  would  let 
him  know  —  What  shall  I  say?  —  What  shall  I  desire  you  to  tell  him  but 
that  I  do  not  enjoy  myself  now  that  I  want  his  company,  nor  can  be  well  till 
I  recover  bis  love  again." 

WLLJUlAil  A^i»   MAJiY.  143 

ceded,  uot  the  hem  of  one  of  her  vebtnienta,  nut  an  epithet    chap, 

from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  her  Liturgy.     All  the  re ^^^^ 

proaches  which  had  been  thrown  on  the  ecclesiastical  commis- 
sion of  James  were  transferred  to  the  ecclesiastical  commission 
of  William.  The  two  commissions  indeed  had  nothing  but  the 
name  in  common.  But  the  name  was  associated  with  illegality 
and  oppression,  with  the  violation  of  dwellings  and  the  con- 
fiscation of  freeholds,  and  was  therefore  assiduously  sounded 
with  no  small  effect  by  the  tongues  of  the  spiteful  in  the  ears  of 
the  ignorant. 

The  King  too,  it  was  said,  was  not  sound.  He  conformed  Ti.e 
indeed  to  the  established  worship ;  but  his  was  a  local  and  oc-  aifccud 
casional  conformity.  For  some  ceremonies  to  which  High  ihr^King. 
Churchmen  were  attached  he  had  a  distaste  which  he  was  at  no 
pains  to  conceal.  One  of  his  first  acts  had  been  to  give  orders 
that  in  his  private  chapel  the  service  should  be  said  instead  of 
being  sung;  and  this  arrangement,  though  warranted  by  the 
rubric,  caused  much  munnuring.*  It  was  known  that  he  was 
so  profane  as  to  sneer  at  a  practice  which  had  been  sanctioned 
by  high  ecclesiastical  authority,  the  practice  of  touching  for 
the  scrofula.  This  ceremony  had  come  down  almost  unaltered 
from  the  darkest  of  the  dark  ages  to  the  time  of  Newton  and 
Locke.  The  Stuarts  frequently  dispensed  the  healing  influences 
in  the  Banqueting  House.  The  days  on  which  this  miracle  was 
to  be  wrought  were  fixed  at  sittings  of  the  Pri\7  Council,  and 
were  solemnly  notified  by  the  clergy  in  all  the  parish  churches 
of  the  realm.**  "When  the  appointed  time  came,  several  di- 
vines in  full  canonicals  stood  round  the  canopy  of  state,  llie 
surgeon  of  the  royal  household  introduced  the  sick.    A  passage 

•  William's  dislike  of  the  Cathedral  hofvIco  is  sarcastically  noticed  by 
Leslie  iu  the  Rehearsal,  No.  7.  See  also  a  Letter  from  a  Member  of  the 
House  of  Comniong  to  his  Friend  In  the  Country,  1689.  and  Bisset's  Modern 
Fanatic,  1710. 

••  See  the  Order  in  Council  of  Jan.  9.  1688. 




CHAP,  from  the  sixteenth  chapter  of  the  Gospel  of  Saint  Mark  was 
read.  When  the  words,  "They  shall  lay  their  hands  on  the 
sick,  and  they  shall  recover,"  had  been  pronounced,  there 
was  a  pause,  and  one  of  the  sick  was  brought  up  to  the  King. 
His  Majesty  stroked  the  ulcers  and  swellings,  and  hung  round 
the  patient's  neck  a  white  riband  to  which  was  fastened  a  gold 
coin.  The  other  sufferers  were  then  led  up  in  succession ;  and, 
as  each  was  touched,  the  chaplain  repeated  the  incantation, 
"They  shall  lay  their  hands  on  the  sick,  and  they  shall  re- 
cover." Then  came  the  epistle,  prayers,  antiphonies  and  a 
benediction.  The  service  may  still  be  found  in  the  prayer 
books  of  the  reign  of  Anne.  Indeed  it  was  not  till  some  time 
after  the  accession  of  George  the  First  that  the  University  of 
Oxford  ceased  to  reprint  the  Office  of  Healing  together  with 
the  Liturgy.  Theologians  of  eminent  learning,  ability,  and 
virtue  gave  the  sanction  of  their  authority  to  this  mummery  ;* 
and,  what  is  stranger  still,  medical  men  of  high  note  believed, 
or  affected  to  believe ,  in  the  balsamic  virtues  of  the  royal  hand. 
We  must  suppose  that  every  surgeon  who  attended  Charles  the 
Second  was  a  man  of  high  repute  for  skiU;  and  more  than  one 
of  the  surgeons  who  attended  Charles  the  Second  has  left  us  a 
solemn  profession  of  faith  in  the  King's  miraculous  power. 
One  of  them  is  not  ashamed  to  tell  us  that  the  gift  was  com- 
municated by  the  unction  administered  at  the  coronation ;  that 
the  cures  were  so  numerous  and  sometimes  so  rapid  that  they 
could  not  be  attributed  to  any  natural  cause ;  that  the  failures 
were  to  be  ascribed  to  want  of  faith  on  the  part  of  the  patients; 

•  See  Collier's  Desertion  diacnsscd,  1689.  Thomas  Carte,  who  was  a 
disciple,  and,  at  one  time,  an  assistant  of  Collier,  inserted,  so  late  as  the 
year  1747,  in  a  bulky  History  of  England,  an  exquisitely  absurd  note,  in 
which  he  assured  the  world  that,  to  his  certain  knowledge,  the  Pretender 
had  cured  the  scrofula,  and  very  gravely  Inferred  that  the  healing  virtue 
was  transmitted  by  inheritance,  and  was  quite  independent  of  any  unction. 
See  Carte's  History  of  England,  vol.  i.  page  291, 


WTXTJAM    AND   MABT.  1-45 

that  Cliarles  once  handled  a  scrofulous  Quaker  and  made  him   cnAP. 


a  healthy  man  and  a  sound  Churclmiau  in  a  moment;  that,  if- 
those  who  had  been  healed  lost  or  sold  the  piece  of  g"ld  which 
had  been  hung  round  their  necks,  the  ulcers  broke  forth  again, 
and  could  be  removed  only  by  a  second  touch  and  a  second 
talisman.  We  cannot  wonder  that,  when  men  of  science 
o;ravely  repeated  such  nonsense,  the  vulgar  should  believe  it. 
Still  less  can  we  wonder  that  wretches  tortured  by  a  disease 
over  which  natural  remedies  had  no  power  should  eagerly  drink 
in  tales  of  preternatural  cures:  for  nothing  is  so  credulous  as 
misery.  The  crowds  which  repaired  to  the  palace  on  the  days  of 
healing  were  immense.  Charles  the  Second,  in  the  course  of 
his  reign,  touched  near  a  hundred  thousand  persons.  The 
number  seems  to  have  increased  or  diminished  as  the  king's 
populaiity  rose  or  fell.  During  that  Tor)'  reaction  which  fol- 
lowed the  dissolution  of  the  Oxford  Parliament,  the  press  to 
get  near  him  was  terrific.  In  1682,  he  performed  the  rite  eight 
thousand  five  hundred  times.  In  1684,  the  throng  was  such 
that  sLx  or  seven  of  the  sick  were  trampled  to  death.  James, 
in  one  of  his  progresses,  touched  eight  hundred  persons  in  the 
choir  of  the  Cathedi-al  of  Chester.  The  expense  of  the  cere- 
mony was  little  less  than  ten  thousand  pounds  a  year,  and 
would  have  been  much  greater  but  for  the  vigilance  of  the  royal 
surgeons,  whose  business  it  was  to  examine  the  applicants, 
and  to  distinguish  those  who  came  for  the  cure  from  those  who 
came  for  the  gold.  * 

•  See  the  Preface  to  a  Treatise  on  Wounds,  by  Richard  Wiseman, 
Sergeant  Chirurgeon  to  llis  Majesty,  167G.  Hut  tlie  fullest  Information  on 
lliis  curious  subject  will  lie  fnund  in  the  Charisma  Basilicon,  by  John 
Browne,  Chirurgeon  in  ordinary  to  His  Majesty,  1684.  See  also  The 
Ceremonies  used  in  the  Time  of  King  Henry  VII.  for  the  Healing  of  them 
that  be  Diseased  with  the  Kintr's  Evil,  published  by  His  Majesty's  Com- 
mand, J686;  Evelyn's  Diary,  March  28.  1C84;  and  Bishop  Cartwright's 
Diary,  August  28,  29,  and  30.  1G87.  It  is  incredible  that  so  large  a  propor- 
tion of  tlio  population  shoald  have  been  really  scrofulous.     No  doubt  many 

ilacaulau,  Histonj.  V.  Iv 


CHAP.         William  had  too  much  sense  to  be  duped,  and  too  much 



■  honesty  to  bear  a  part  in  what  he  knew  to  be  an  imposture. 
"It  is  a  silly  superstition,"  he  exclaimed,  when  he  heard  that, 
at  the  close  of  Lent,  his  palace  was  besieged  by  a  crowd  of  the 
sick:  "Give  the  poor  creatures  some  money,  and  send  them 
away."*  On  one  single  occasion  he  was  importuned  into  laying 
his  hand  on  a  patient.  "  God  give  you  better  health  ,"  he  said, 
"and  more  sense."  The  parents  of  scrofulous  children  cried 
out  against  his  cruelty:  bigots  lifted  up  their  hands  and  eyes  in 
horror  at  his  impiety:  Jacobites  sarcastically  praised  him  for 
not  presuming  to  aiTOgate  to  himself  a  power  which  be- 
longed only  to  legitimate  sovereigns;  and  even  some  Whigs 
thought  that  he  acted  unwisely  in  treating  with  such  marked 
contempt  a  superstition  which  had  a  strong  hold  on  the  vulgar 
mind:  but  William  was  not  to  be  moved,  and  was  accordingly 
set  down  by  many  High  Churchmen  as  either  an  infidel  or  a 
The  The  chief  cause,  however,  which  at  this  time  made  even  the 

clergy  ex-  '  ' 

asperated  most  moderate  plan  of  comprehension  hateful  to  the  priesthood 
the  Dis-  still  remains  to  be  mentioned.     "WTiat  Burnet  had  foreseen  and 

s  6  u  1 6  rs 

by  the     foretold  had  come  to  pass.     There  was  throughout  the  clerical 

Fngs^'olr  "  profession  a  strong  disposition  to  retaliate  on  the  Presbyterians 

presbyte-  °^  England  the  wrongs  of  the  Episcopalians  of  Scotland.     It 

nans.       could  not  be  denied  that  even  the  highest  churchmen  had,  in 

the  summer  of  1688,  generally  declared  themselves  willing  to 

give  up  many  things  for  the  sake  of  union.     But  it  was  said,  and 

not  without  plausibility,  that  what  was  passing  on  the  other  side 

persons  who  had  slight  and  transient  maladies  were  brought  to  the  king, 
and  the  recovery  of  these  persons  kept  up  the  vulgar  belief  in  the  efficacy 
of  iiis  touch. 

•  Paris  Gazette,  April  23.  1689. 
•»  See  Whiston's  Life  of  himself.     Poor  Whiston ,  who  believed  in  every 
thing  but  the  Trinity,  tells  us  gravely  that  the  single  person  whom  William 
touched  was  cured,  notwltlistanding  His  Majesty's  want  of  faith.     See  also 
the  Athenian  Mercury  of  January  16.  1C91. 


wii.UAjj.  A^ij  iiAur.  147 

cf  the  Border  proved  union  on  any  reasonable  terms  to  be  im-  cfiap 
possible.  With  what  face,  it  was  asked,  can  those  who  will 
make  no  concession  to  us  where  we  are  weak ,  blame  us  for  re- 
fusing to  make  any  concession  to  them  where  we  are  strong? 
We  cannot  judge  correctly  of  the  principles  and  feelings  of  a 
sect  from  the  professions  which  it  makes  in  a  time  of  feebleness 
and  suffering.  If  we  would  know  what  the  Puritan  spirit  really 
is,  we  must  observe  the  Puritan  when  he  is  dominant.  He  was 
dominant  here  in  the  last  generation;  and  his  httle  finger  was 
thicker  than  the  loins  of  the  prelates.  He  drove  hundi-eds  of 
quiet  students  from  their  cloisters,  and  thousands  of  respectable 
divines  from  their  parsonages,  for  the  crime  of  refusing  to  sign 
his  Covenant.  No  tenderness  was  shown  to  learning,  to  genius 
or  to  sanctity.  Such  men  as  Hall  and  Sanderson,  Chillingworth 
and  Hammond,  were  not  only  plundered,  but  flung  into  prisons, 
and  exposed  to  all  the  rudeness  of  brutal  gaolers.  It  was  made 
a  crime  to  read  fine  psalms  and  prayers  bequeathed  to  the  faith- 
ful by  Ambrose  and  Chrj'sostom.  At  length  the  nation  became 
weary  of  the  reign  of  the  saints.  The  fallen  dynasty  and  the 
fallen  hierarchy  were  restored.  The  Puritan  was  in  his  turn 
subjected  to  disabilities  and  penalties;  and  he  immediately 
found  out  that  it  was  barbarous  to  punish  men  for  entertaining 
conscientious  scruples  about  a  garb,  about  a  ceremony,  about 
the  functions  of  ecclesiastical  officers.  His  piteous  complaints 
and  his  arguments  in  favour  of  toleration  had  at  length  imposed 
on  many  well  meaning  persons.  Even  zealous  churchmen  had 
begun  to  entertain  a  hope  that  the  severe  discipline  which  he 
had  undergone  had  made  him  candid,  moderate,  charitable. 
Had  this  been  really  so,  it  would  doubtless  have  been  our  duty 
to  treat  his  scruples  with  extreme  tenderness.  But,  while  we 
were  considering  what  we  could  do  to  meet  his  wishes  in  Eng- 
land, he  had  obtained  ascendency  in  Scotland;  and,  in  an  in- 
stant, he  was  all  himself  again,  bigoted,  insolent,  and  cruel. 



CHAP.  Manses  had  been  sacked:   churches  shut  up;   prayer  books 
burned;    sacred  gannents  torn;    congregations  dispersed  by 


violence;  priests  hustled ,  pelted,  pilloried,  driven  forth,  -with 
their  wives  and  babes,  to  beg  or  die  of  hunger.  That  these 
outrages  were  to  be  imputed,  not  to  a  few  lawless  marauders, 
but  to  the  great  body  of  the  Presbyterians  of  Scotland,  was 
evident  from  the  fact  that  the  government  had  not  dared  either 
to  inflict  punishment  on  the  offenders  or  to  grant  relief  to  the 
sufferers.  Was  it  not  fit  then  that  the  Church  of  England 
should  take  warning?  Was  it  reasonable  to  ask  her  to  mutilate 
her  apostolical  polity  and  her  beautiful  ritual  for  the  purjiose  of 
conciliating  those  who  wanted  nothing  but  power  to  rabble  her 
as  they  had  rabbled  her  sister?  Already  these  men  had  ob- 
tained a  boon  which  they  ill  deserved,  and  which  they  never 
would  have  granted.  They  worshipped  God  in  perfect  security. 
Their  meeting  houses  were  as  effectually  protected  as  the  choirs 
of  our  cathedrals.  While  no  episcopal  minister  could,  without 
putting  his  life  in  jeopardy,  officiate  in  AjTshire  or  Renfrew- 
shire, a  hundred  Presbyterian  ministers  preached  unmolested 
every  Sunday  in  Middlesex.  The  legislature  had,  with  a 
generosity  perhaps  imprudent,  granted  toleration  to  the  most 
intolerant  of  men ;  and  with  toleration  it  behoved  them  to  be 
consiitu-  Thus  several  causes  conspired  to  inflame  the  parochial 
tbe"  Con-  clcrgy  against  the  scheme  of  comprehension.  Their  temper  was 
TocatioD.  gyjjj^  that,  if  the  plan  framed  in  the  Jerusalem  Chamber  had 
been  directly  submitted  to  them,  it  would  have  been  rejected  by 
a  majority  of  twenty  to  one.  But  in  the  Convocation  their 
weight  bore  no  proportion  to  their  number.  The  Convocation 
has,  happily  for  our  country,  been  so  long  utterly  insignificant 
that,  till  a  recent  period ,  none  but  curious  students  cared  to  in- 
quire how  it  was  constituted ;  and  even  now  many  persons,  not 
generally  ill  informed,  imagine  it  to  have  been  a  council  repre- 

WlUaAM   AND    MAiiX.  149 

sentinK  the  Church  of  England.     In  truth  the  Convocation  so    chap. 

■  •  T 1 V 

often  mentioned  in  our  ecclesiastical  historj'  is  merely  the  sjTiod  ^^,j 
of  the  Province  of  Canterbury,  and  never  had  a  right  to  speak 
in  the  name  of  the  whole  clerical  body.  The  Province  of  York 
had  also  its  convocation:  but,  till  the  eighteenth  century  was 
far  advanced,  the  Province  of  York  was  generally  so  poor,  so 
rude,  and  so  thinly  peopled,  that,  in  political  importance,  it 
could  hardly  be  considered  as  more  than  a  tenth  part  of  the 
kingdom.  The  sense  of  the  Southern  clergy  was  therefore 
popularly  considered  as  the  sense  of  the  whole  profession. 
Wiien  the  formal  concurrence  of  the  Northern  clergy  was  re- 
quired, it  seems  to  have  been  given  aa  a  matter  of  course.  In- 
deed the  canons  passed  by  the  Convocation  of  Canterbur}'  in 
160-1  were  ratified  by  James  the  First,  and  were  ordered  to  be 
strictly  observed  in  every  part  of  the  kingdom,  two  years  before 
the  Convocation  of  York  went  through  the  form  of  approving 
them.  Since  these  ecclesiastical  councils  became  mere  names, 
a  great  change  has  taken  place  in  the  relative  position  of  the 
two  Archbishoprics.  In  all  the  elements  of  power,  the  region 
beyond  Trent  is  now  at  least  a  third  part  of  England.  "WTien  in 
our  o\<Ti  time  the  representative  system  was  adjusted  to  the 
altered  state  of  the  country,  almost  all  the  small  boroughs 
which  it  was  necessarj'  to  disfranchise  were  in  the  south.  Two 
thirds  of  the  new  members  given  to  great  provincial  towns  were 
given  to  the  north.  If  therefore  any  English  government  should 
suffer  the  Convocations,  as  now  constituted,  to  meet  for  the 
despatch  of  business,  two  independent  synods  would  be  legis- 
lating at  the  same  time  for  one  Church.  It  is  by  no  means  im- 
possible that  one  assembly  might  adopt  canons  which  the  other 
might  reject,  that  one  assembly  might  condemn  as  heretical 
propositions  which  the  other  might  hold  to  be  orthodox.*    In 

•   In   several    recent    publications    ttio   apprclicnsion   that   dilTerenccs 
aiiglit  arise   between  the  Convocatiun  of  York  and  the   Convocation  of 


CHAP,  the  seventeenth  century  no  such  danger  was  apprehended.    So 



•  little  indeed  was  the  Convocation  of  York  then  considered,  that 
the  two  Houses  of  Parliament  had ,  in  their  address  to  William, 
spoken  only  of  one  Convocation,  which  they  called  the  Convo- 
cation of  the  Clergy  of  the  Kingdom. 

The  body  which  they  thus  not  very  accurately  designated  is 
divided  into  two  Houses.  The  Upper  House  is  composed  of  the 
Bishops  of  the  Province  of  Canterbury.  The  Lower  House  con- 
sisted, in  1689,  of  a  hundred  and  forty  four  members.  Twenty  two 
Deans  and  fifty  four  Archdeacons  sate  there  in  virtue  of  their 
offices.  Twenty  four  divines  sate  as  proctors  for  twenty  four 
chapters.  Only  forty  four  proctors  were  elected  by  the  eight 
thousand  parish  priests  of  the  twenty  two  dioceses.  These  forty 
Election  fouT  proctors,  however,  were  almost  all  of  one  mind.  The 
bers^of"  elections  had  in  former  times  been  conducted  in  the  most  quiet 
^^onvoca-  ^^^  decorous  manner.  But  on  this  occasion  the  canvassing  was 
eager:  the  contests  were  sharp:  Rochester,  the  leader  of  the 
party  which  in  the  House  of  Lords  had  opposed  the  Comprehen- 
sion BiU,  and  his  brother  Clarendon,  who  had  refused  to  take 
the  oaths,  had  gone  to  Oxford,  the  head  quarters  of  that  party, 
for  the  purpose  of  animating  and  organizing  the  opposition.* 
The  representatives  of  the  parochial  clergy  must  have  been  men 
whose  chief  distinction  was  their  zeal:  for  in  the  whole  list  can 
be  found  not  a  single  illustrious  name,  and  very  few  names 
which  are  now  known  even  to  curious  students.**   The  official 

Canterbury  has  been  contemptuonsly  pronounced  chimerical.  But  it  is 
not  easy  to  understand  why  two  independent  Convocations  should  bo 
less  likely  to  differ  than  two  Houses  of  the  same  Convocation;  and  it 
is  matter  of  notoriety  that,  in  the  reigns  of  William  the  Third  and  Anne, 
the  two  Houses  of  the  Convocation  of  Canterbury  scarcely  ever  agreed. 

*  Birch's  Life  of  Tillotson;  Life  of  Prideaux.  From  Clarendon's 
Diary,  it  appears  that  he  and  Rochester  were  at  Oxford  on  the  23rd  of 

•*  See  the  Roll  in  the  Historical  Account  of  the  present  Convocation, 
appended  to  the  second  edition  of  Vox  Cleri,  1690.    The  most  considerable 

WIU-IAM   A>'D   MAJiT.  151 

members  of  the  Lower  House,   among  whom  were  many  (lis-    chap 



tinguished  scholars  and  preachers,  seem  to  have  been  not  ver)' 
unequally  divided. 

During  the  summer  of  1689  several  high  ecclesiastical  Kccie- 
dignitles  became  vacant,  and  were  bestowed  on  divines  who  prefcr- 
were  sitting  in  the  Jerusalem  Chamber.  It  has  already  been  Jlc^owed 
mentioned  that  Thomas,  Bishop  of  "Worcester,  died  just  before 
the  day  fixed  for  taking  the  oaths.  Lake ,  Bishop  of  Chichester, 
lived  just  long  enough  to  refuse  them,  and  with  his  last  breath 
declared  that  he  would  maintain  even  at  the  stake  the  doctrine 
of  indefeasible  hereditary  right.  The  see  of  Chichester  was 
filled  by  Patrick,  that  of  Worcester  by  Stillingfleet;  and  the 
deanery  of  Saint  Paul's  which  Stillingfleet  quitted  was  given  to 
Tillotson.  That  Tillotson  was  not  raised  to  the  episcopal 
bench  excited  some  surprise.  But  in  truth  it  was  because  the 
government  held  his  services  in  the  highest  estimation  that  he 
was  suffered  to  remain  a  little  longer  a  simple  presbj-ter.  The 
most  important  office  in  the  Convocation  was  that  of  Prolocutor 
of  the  Lower  House.  The  Prolocutor  was  to  be  chosen  by  the 
members:  and  the  only  moderate  man  who  had  a  chance  of 
being  chosen  was  Tillotson.  It  had  in  fact  been  already  de- 
termined that  he  should  be  thenext  Archbishop  of  Canterbury. 
^^^^en  he  went  to  kiss  hands  for  his  new  deanery  he  warmly 
thanked  the  King.  "  Your  Majesty  has  now  set  me  at  ease  for 
the  remainder  of  my  life."  "No  such  thing,  Doctor,  I  assure 
you,"  said  "William.  He  then  plainly  intimated  that,  whenever 
Sancroft  should  cease  to  fill  the  highest  ecclesiastical  station, 
Tillotson  would  succeed  to  it.  Tillotson  stood  aghast;  for  his 
nature  was  quiet  and  unambitious:  he  was  beginning  to  feel  the 
infirmities  of  old  age:  he  cared  little  for  money:  of  wordly 
advantages  those  which  he  most  valued  were  an  honest  fume 


name  that  I  perceive  in  the  list  of  proctors  chosen  by  the  parocliial  clergy 
U  that  of  Dr.  John  Mill,  the  editor  of  the  Greek  Testament. 

152  lasTOiiy  oe  englajsd. 

CHAP,  and  the  general  good  will  of  mankind:  those  advantages  he 



■already  possessed;  and  he  could  not  but  be  aware  that,  if  he 
became  primate,  he  should  incur  the  bitterest  hatred  of  a 
powerful  party,  and  should  become  a  mark  for  obloquy,  from 
which  his  gentle  and  sensitive  nature  shrank  as  from  the  rack 
or  the  wheel.  William  was  earnest  and  resolute.  "It  is  neces- 
sary," he  said,  "for  my  service;  and  I  must  lay  on  your  con- 
science the  responsibility  of  refusing  me  yoiur  help."  Here  the 
conversation  ended.  It  ,"as,  indeed,  not  necessary  that  the 
point  should  be  immediately  decided;  for  several  months  were 
still  to  elapse  before  the  Archbishopric  would  be  vacant. 

Tillotson  bemoaned  himself  with  unfeigned  anxiety  and 
sorrow  to  Lady  Russell,  whom,  of  all  human  beings,  he  most 
honoured  and  trusted.*  He  hoped,  he  said,  that  he  was  not 
inclined  to  shrink  from  the  service  of  the  Church ;  but  he  was 
convinced  that  his  present  line  of  sei-vice  was  that  in  whicli  lie 
could  be  most  useful.  If  he  should  be  forced  to  accept  so  high 
and  so  invidious  a  post  as  the  primacy,  he  should  soon  sink 
under  the  load  of  duties  and  anxieties  too  heavy  for  his  strength. 
His  spirits ,  and  with  his  spirits  his  abilities ,  would  fail  him. 
He  gently  complained  of  Burnet,  who  loved  and  admired  him 
with  a  truly  generous  heartiness,  and  who  had  laboured  to 
persuade  both  the  King  and  Queen  that  there  was  in  England 
only  one  man  fit  for  the  highest  ecclesiastical  dignity.  "The 
Bishop  of  Salisbury,"  said  TiUotson,  "is  one  of  the  best  and 
worst  friends  that  I  know." 
compion  Nothing  that  was  not  a  secret  to  Burnet  was  likely  to  be 
leiiieii,  long  a  secret  to  any  body.  It  soon  began  to  be  whispered  about 
that  the  King  had  fixed  on  Tillotson  to  fill  the  place  of  Sancroft. 
The  news  caused  cruel  mortification  to  Compton,  who,  not  un- 
naturally, conceived  that  his  own  claims  were  unrivalled.  He 
bad  educated  the  Queen  and  her  sister;  and  to  the  instruction 

*  Tillotson  to  Lady  Russell,  April  19.  ICOO. 

WiUJAM   \HD    MAUi'.  153 

whicli  till' V  had  received  iVoni  him  niiirht  t'uirly  Ijc  ascribed,  at    (.iiac 

.  XIV 

least  in  part,  tlie  firmness  with  which,  in  spite  of  tlie  infhience  — j^ 
of  their  fatlier,  they  had  adhered  to  the  established  relijjion. 
Compton  was,  moreover,  the  only  prelate  who,  during  the 
late  reign,  had  raised  his  voice  in  Parliament  against  the  dis- 
pensing power,  the  only  prelate  who  had  been  suspended  by 
the  High  Commission,  the  only  prelate  who  had  signed  the 
invitation  to  the  Prince  of  Orange,  the  only  prelate  who  had 
actually  taken  arms  against  Popery  and  arbitrary  power,  the 
only  prelate,  save  one,  who  had  voted  against  a  Kegeucy. 
Among  the  ecclesiastics  of  the  Provijice  of  Canterbury  who  had 
taken  the  oaths,  he  was  highest  in  rank.  He  had  therefore 
held,  during  some  months,  a  vicarious  primacy:  he  had 
crowned  the  new  Sovereigns:  he  had  consecrated  the  new- 
Bishops:  he  was  about  to  preside  in  the  Convocation.  It  may 
be  added,  that  he  was  the  son  of  an  Earl;  and  that  no  person 
of  equally  high  birth  then  sate,  or  had  ever  sate,  since  the 
Heformation,  on  the  episcopal  bench.  That  the  government 
should  put  over  his  head  a  priest  of  his  own  diocese,  who  was 
the  son  of  a  Yorkshire  clothier,  and  who  was  distinguished 
only  by  abilities  and  virtues,  was  proA'oking;  and  Compton, 
though  by  no  means  a  badhearted  man,  was  much  provoked. 
Perhaps  his  vexation  was  increased  by  the  reflection  that  he 
had,  for  the  sake  of  those  by  whom  he  was  thus  slighted,  done 
some  things  which  had  strained  his  conscience  and  sullied  his 
reputation,  that  he  had  at  one  time  practised  the  disingenuous 
arts  of  a  diplomatist,  and  at  another  time  given  scandal  to  his 
brethren  by  wearing  the  buff  coat  and  jackboots  of  a  trooper. 
He  could  not  accuse  Tillotson  of  inordinate  ambition.  But, 
though  Tillotson  was  most  unwilling  to  accept  the  Archbishopric 
himself,  he  did  not  use  his  influence  in  favour  of  Compton,  but 
earnestly  recommended  Stillingfleet  as  the  man  fittest  to 
preside  over  the  Church  of  England.    The  consequence  was 


CHAP,  that,  on  the  eve  of  the  meeting  of  Convocation,  the  Bishop 
-  ^ggg"  who  was  to  be  at  the  head  of  the  Upper  House  became  the 
personal  enemy  of  the  presbyter  whom  the  government  wished 
to  see  at  the  head  of  the  Lower  House.  This  quarrel  added 
new  difficulties  to  difficulties  which  little  needed  any  ad- 

The  Con-       It  was  not  till  the  twentieth  of  November  that  the  Con- 
vocation ^  .  p         . 
meets,     vocation  met  for  the  despatch  of  business.  The  place  of  meetmg 

had  generally  been  Saint  Paul's  Cathedral.  But  Saint  Paul's 
Cathedral  was  slowly  rising  from  its  ruins;  and,  though  the 
dome  already  towered  high  above  the  hundred  steeples  of  the 
City,  the  choir  had  not  yet  been  opened  for  public  worship. 
The  assembly  therefore  sate  at  Westminster.**  A  table  was 
placed  in  the  beautiful  chapel  of  Hemy  the  Seventh.  Compton 
was  in  the  chair.  On  his  right  and  left  those  suffragans  of 
Canterbury  who  had  taken  the  oaths  were  ranged  in  gorgeous 
vestments  of  scarlet  and  miniver.  Below  the  table  was  as- 
sembled the  crowd  of  presbyters.  Beveridge  preached  a  Ijatin 
sermon,  in  which  he  warmly  eulogized  the  existing  system, 
and  yet  declared  himself  favourable  to  a  moderate  reform.  Ec- 
clesiastical laws  were ,  he  said,  of  two  kinds.  Some  laws  were 
fundamental  and  eternal:  they  derived  their  authority  from 
God;  nor  could  any  religious  community  repeal  them  without 
ceasing  to  form  a  part  of  the  universal  Church.  Other  laAvs 
were  local  and  temporary.  They  had  been  framed  by  human 
wisdom ,  and  might  be  altered  by  human  wisdom.  They  ought 
not  indeed  to  be  altered  without  grave  reasons.  But  surely,  at 
that  moment,  such  reasons  were  not  wanting.  To  unite  a 
scattered  flock  in  one  fold  under  one  shepherd,  to  remove  stum- 

•  Birch's  Life  of  Tillotson.  The  account  there  given  of  the  coldness 
between  Compton  and  Tillotson  was  taken  by  Birch  from  the  MSS.  of 
Henry  Wharton,  and  Is  confirmed  by  many  circumstances  which  are  known 
from  other  sources  of  intelligence. 

•*  Chamberlayne's  State  of  England,  18th  edition. 


Wn-LIAM   AND   MATIT.  155 

blini'  blocks  from  the  path  of  tlie  weak,  to  reconcile  hearts  long    cnAP. 

.  .  .  .  ....XIV 

estranged,  to  restore  spiritual  discipline  to  its  primitive  vigour,  -'j^,j^-~ 
to  place  the  best  and  purest  of  Christian  societies  on  a  base 
broad  enough  to  stand  against  all  the  attacks  of  earth  and  hell, 
these  were  objects  which  might  well  justify  some  modification, 
not  of  Catholic  institutions,  but  of  national  or  provincial 

The  Lower  House,  having  heard  this  discourse,  proceeded  Tiieriigh- 
to  appoint  a  Prolocutor.     Sharp ,  who  was  probably  put  forward  men  a 
by  the  members  favourable  to  a  comprehension  as  one  of  the  .Vibe'  ^ 
highest  churchmen  among  them,  proposed  Tillotson.     J'ine,  Jjg*^"  ^f 
who  had  refused  to  act  under  the  Royal  Commission ,  was  pro-  Ji°^' 
posed  on  the  other  side.    After  some  animated  discussion,  Jane 
was  elected  by  fifty  five  votes  to  twenty  eight.** 

The  Prolocutor  was  formally  presented  to  the  Bishop  of 
London,  and  made,  according  to  ancient  usage,  a  Latin  ora- 
tion. In  this  oration  the  Anglican  Church  was  extolled  as  the 
most  perfect  of  all  institutions.  There  was  a  very  intelligible 
intimation  that  no  change  whatever  in  her  doctrine,  her  dis- 
cipline ,  or  her  ritual  was  required ;  and  the  discourse  concluded 
with  a  most  significant  sentence.  Compton ,  when  a  few  months 
before  he  exhibited  himself  in  the  somewhat  unclerical  character 
of  a  colonel  of  horse,  had  ordered  the  colours  of  his  regiment 
to  be  embroidered  with  the  well  known  words  "Nolumus  leges 
Anglioe  mutari;"  and  with  these  words  Jane  closed  his  pero- 

Still  the  Low  Churchmen  did  not  relinquish  all  hope.  They 
very  wisely  determined  to  begin  by  proposing  to  substitute 
lessons  taken  from  the  canonical  books  for  the  lessons  taken 
from  the  Apocrypha.     It  should  seem  that  this  was  a  suggestion 

•  Conclo  ad  Synodiim  per  Gulielmiim  nevcrepium,  1G89. 
••  Narcissus  Luttrell's  Diary;  Historical  Account  of  the  Present  Convo- 
•••  Kennefi  History,  iU.  662. 

156  HISIOKX    Of  JiWGLA_NI>. 

CHAP,  which,  even  if  there  had  not  been  a  single  dissenter  in  the 
-j^— -kingdom,  might  well  have  been  received  with  favour.  For  the 
Church  had,  in  her  sixth  Article,  declared  that  the  canonical 
books  were ,  and  that  the  Apocryphal  books  were  not,  entitled 
to  be  called  Holy  Scriptures,  and  to  be  regarded  as  the  rule  of 
faith.  Even  this  reform ,  however,  the  High  Churchmen  were 
determined  to  oppose.  They  asked,  in  pamphlets  which  covered 
the  counters  of  Paternoster  Row  and  Little  Britain,  why  country 
congregations  should  be  deprived  of  the  pleasure  of  heai"ing 
about  the  ball  of  pitch  with  which  Daniel  choked  the  dragon, 
and  about  the  fish  whose  liver  gave  forth  such  a  fume  as  sent 
the  devil  flying  from  Ecbataua  to  Egypt.  And  were  there  not 
chapters  of  the  Wisdom  of  the  Son  of  Sirach  far  more  interesting 
and  edifying  than  the  genealogies  and  muster  rolls  which  made 
up  a  large  part  of  the  Chronicles  of  the  Jewish  Kings  and  of  the 
narrative  ofNehemiah?  No  grave  divine  however  would  have 
liked  to  maintain,  in  Henry  the  Seventh's  Chapel,  that  it  was 
impossible  to  find,  in  many  hundreds  of  pages  dictated  by  the 
Holy  Spirit,  fifty  or  sixty  chapters  more  edifying  than  any  thing 
which  could  be  extracted  from  the  works  of  the  most  respectable 
uninspired  moralist  or  historian.  The  leaders  of  the  majority 
therefore  determined  to  shun  a  debate  in  which  they  must  have 
been  reduced  to  a  disagreeable  dilemma.  Their  plan  was,  not 
to  reject  the  recommendations  of  the  Commissioners,  but  to 
prevent  those  recommendations  from  being  discussed;  and 
with  this  view  a  system  of  tactics  was  adopted  which  proved 

The  law,  as  it  had  been  interi:)reted  during  a  long  course  of 
years,  prohibited  the  Convocation  from  even  deliberating  on 
any  ecclesiastical  ordinance  •without  a  previous  warrant  from 
the  Crown.  Such  a  warrant,  sealed  with  the  great  seal,  was 
brought  in  form  to  Henry  the  Seventh's  Chapel  by  Not- 
tingham.   He  at  the  same  time  delivered  a  message  fi"om  the 

Wir.r.IAM    AND    MAUT.  157 

King.     His  Majesty  exhorted  the  assembly  to  consider  calmly   'y,*''* 
and  without  prejudice  the  recommendations  of  the  Commission,    isgs. 
and  declared  tliut  he  had  nothing  in  view  but  the  honour  and 
advantage  of  the  Protestant  religion  in  general,  and  of  the 
Church  of  England  in  particular.* 

The  Bishops  speedily  agreed  on  an  address  of  thanks  for  the  DiTcr- 

t        I  J      O  PIT  ''"^  *"" 

royal  message,  and  requested  the  concurrence  of  the  Lower  iwfcn 

Til-       11  -ii-      •         c        \  •      ■       •'"-■  '*" 

House.  Jane  and  his  adherents  raised  ol)jection  alter  objection,  nonscsof 

First  they  claimed  the  privilege  of  presenting  a  separate  address,  tiu""'*' 
When  they  were  forced  to  waive  this  claim,  they  refused  to 
agree  to  any  expression  which  imported  that  the  Chmxh  of 
England  had  any  fellowship  with  any  other  Protestant  commu- 
nity. Amendments  and  reasons  were  sent  backward  and  fonvard. 
Conferences  were  held  at  which  Burnet  on  one  side  and  Jane  on 
the  other  were  the  chief  speakers.  At  last,  with  great  diffi- 
culty, a  compromise  was  made;  and  an  address,  cold  and  un- 
gracious compared  with  that  which  the  Bishops  had  framed,  was 
presented  to  the  King  in  the  BanquetingHouse.  He  dissembled 
his  vexation,  returned  a  kind  answer,  and  intimated  a  hope 
that  the  assembly  would  now  at  length  proceed  to  consider  the 
great  question  of  Comprehension.** 

Such  however  was  not  the  intention  of  the  leaders  of  the  The 
Lower  House.  As  soon  as  they  were  again  in  Henry  the  Seventh's  uZL  o( 
Chapel,  one  of  them  raised  a  debate   about  the  nonjuring ^,","'^" 
Bishops.     In   spite   of  the  unfortunate  scruple  which    those  iJ[','|^,"_ 
prelates  entertained,  they  were  learned  and  holy  men.     Their 'S''''''- 
advice  might,  at  this  conjuncture ,  be  of  the  greatest  service  to 
the  Church.  The  Upper  House  was  hardly  an  Upper  House  in  the 
absence  of  the  Primate  and  of  many  of  his  most  respectable 
suffragans.      Could  nothing  be  done  to  remedy  this  evil?*** 

•  Historical  Account  of  the  Present  Convocation,  16S9. 
•*  Historical   Account   of  tho   Present   Convocation;    Burnet,    li.    68.; 
Eennct'a  History  of  tlie  Reign  of  Willihni  and  Mnry. 
*♦♦  Historical  Account  of  the  Present  Convocation:  Kennct's  History. 


CHAP.  Another  member  complained  of  some  pamphlets  which  had 
— j^—  lately  appeared ,  and  in  which  the  Convocation  was  not  treated 
with  proper  deference.  The  assembly  took  fire.  Was  it  not 
monstrous  that  this  heretical  and  schismatical  trash  should  be 
cried  by  the  hawkers  about  the  streets,  and  should  be  exposed 
to  sale  in  the  booths  of  Westminster  Hall ,  within  a  hundred 
yards  of  the  Prolocutor's  chair?  The  work  of  mutilating  the 
Liturgy  and  of  turning  cathedrals  into  conventicles  might  surely 
be  postponed  till  the  Synod  had  taken  measures  to  protect  its 
own  fteedom  and  dignity.  It  was  then  debated  how  the  printing 
of  such  scandalous  books  should  be  prevented.  Some  were  for 
indictments,  some  for  ecclesiastical  censures.*  In  such  delibe- 
rations as  these  week  after  week  passed  away.  Not  a  single 
proposition  tending  to  a  Comprehension  had  been  even  discuss- 
ed. Christmas  was  approaching.  At  Christmas  there  was  to 
be  a  recess.  The  Bishops  were  desirous  that ,  during  the  recess, 
a  committee  should  sit  to  prepare  business.  The  Lower  House 
refused  to  consent.**  That  House,  it  was  now  evident,  was 
fully  determined  not  even  to  enter  on  the  consideration  of  any 
part  of  the  plan  which  had  been  framed  by  the  Royal  Commis- 
sioners. The  proctors  of  the  dioceses  were  in  a  worse  humour 
than  when  they  first  came  up  to  Westminster.  Many  of  them 
had  probably  never  before  passed  a  week  in  the  capital,  and 
had  not  been  aware  how  great  the  difference  was  between  a 
town  divine  and  a  country  divine.  The  sight  of  the  luxuries  and 
comforts  enjoyed  by  the  popular  preachers  of  the  city  raised, 
not  unnaturally,  some  sore  feeling  in  a  Lincolnshire  or  Caernar- 
vonshire vicar  who  was  accustomed  to  live  as  hardly  as  a  small 
farmer.  The  very  circumstance  that  the  London  clergy  were 
generally  for  a  comprehension  made  the  representatives  of  the 
rural  clergy  obstinate  on  the  other  side.***   The  prelates  were, 

*  Historical  Account  of  the  Present  Convocation,  Kennet. 
*•  Historical  Account  of  the  Present  Convocittion. 
••*  That  there  wag  such  a  jealousy  as  I  have  described  is  admitted  In 


as  a  body ,  sincerely  desirous  that  some  concession  might  he    chap. 
made  to  the  nonconformists.      But  the  prelates  were  utterly -^^.^g'- 
unable  to  curb  the  mutinous  democracy.     They  were  few  in 
number.     Some  of  them  were  objects  of  extreme  dislike  to  the 
parochial  clergy.     The  President  had  not  the  full  authority  of  a 
primate;  nor  was  he  sorry  to  see  those  who  had,  as  he  con- 
ceived, used  him  ill,  thwarted  and  mortified.    It  was  necessary 
to  yield.    The  Convocation  was  prorogued  for  six  weeks.   'When  J^^^';,'?"^' 
those  six  weeks  had  expired,  it  was  prorogued  again;  and  many  pro- 

.        ,  ,       .  rogued. 

years  elapsed  before  it  was  permitted  to  transact  business. 

So  ended,  and  for  ever,  the  hope  that  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land might  be  induced  to  make  some  concession  to  the  scruples 
of  the  nonconformists.  A  learned  and  respectable  minority  of 
the  clerical  order  relinquished  that  hope  with  deep  regret.  Yet 
in  a  very  short  time  even  Burnet  and  Tillotson  found  reason  to 
beheve  that  their  defeat  was  really  an  escape,  and  that  victory 
would  have  been  a  disaster.  A  reform,  such  as,  in  the  days  of 
Elizabeth,  would  have  united  the  great  body  of  English  Pro- 
testants, would,  in  the  days  of  AVilliam,  have  alienated  more 
hearts  than  it  would  have  conciliated.  The  schism  which  the 
oaths  had  produced  was,  as  yet,  insignificant.  Innovations 
such  as  those  proposed  by  the  Royal  Commissioners  would  have 
given  it  a  terrible  importance.  As  yet  a  lajman,  though  he 
might  think  the  proceedings  of  the  Convention  unjustifiable, 
and  though  he  might  applaud  the  virtue  of  the  nonjuring  clergy, 
still  continued  to  sit  under  the  accustomed  pulpit,  and  to  kneel 

the  pamphlet  entitled  Vox  Clcri.  "Some  country  ministers,  now  of  the 
Convocation,  do  now  sec  in  what  great  case  and  plenty  the  City  ministers 
live,  who  have  their  readers  and  lecturers,  and  frequent  supplies,  and 
sometimes  tarry  in  the  vestry  till  prayers  be  ended,  and  have  great  digni- 
ties in  the  Church,  besides  their  rich  parishes  in  the  City."  The  author  of 
this  tract,  once  widely  celebrated,  was  Thomas  Long,  proctor  for  the 
clergy  of  the  diocese  of  Exeter.  In  anotlier  pamphlet,  published  at  this 
time,  the  rural  clergymen  are  said  to  have  seen  with  an  evil  eye  their  Lon- 
don brethren  refreshing  themselves  with  sack  after  preaching.  Several 
satirical  allusions  to  the  fable  of  the  Town  Mouse  and  the  Country  Mouse 
will  be  found  in  the  pamphlets  of  that  winter. 

J  689. 


CHAP,  at  the  accustomed  altar.  But  if,  just  at  this  conjuncture, 
■  while  his  mind  was  iiTitated  by  what  he  thought  the  ■wrong  done 
to  his  favourite  divines,  and  while  he  was  perhaps  doubting 
whether  he  ought  not  to  follow  them,  his  ears  and  eyes  had 
been  shocked  by  changes  in  the  worship  to  which  he  was  fondly 
attached,  if  the  compositions  of  the  doctors  of  the  Jerusalem 
Chamber  had  taken  the  place  of  the  old  collects,  if  he  had  seen 
clergymen  without  surplices  carrying  the  chalice  and  the  paten 
up  and  down  the  aisle  to  seated  communicants ,  the  tie  which 
bound  him  to  the  Established  Church  would  have  been  dis- 
solved. He  would  have  repaired  to  some  nonjuring  assembly, 
where  the  service  which  he  loved  v/as  performed  without  muti- 
lation. The  new  sect,  which  as  yet  consisted  almost  exclusively 
of  priests,  would  soon  have  been  swelled  by  numerous  and 
large  congregations;  and  in  those  congregations  would  have 
been  found  a  much  greater  proportion  of  the  opulent,  of  the 
highly  descended,  and  of  the  highly  educated,  than  any  other 
body  of  dissenters  could  show.  The  Episcopal  schismatics, 
thus  reinforced,  would  probably  have  been  as  formidable  to  the 
new  King  and  his  successors  as  ever  the  Puritan  schismatics  had 
been  to  the  princes  of  the  House  of  Stuart.  It  is  an  indisputable 
and  a  most  instructive  fact,  that  we  are,  in  a  great  measure,  in- 
debted for  the  civil  and  religious  liberty  which  we  enjoy  to  the 
pertinacity  with  which  the  High  Church  party,  in  the  Convocation 
of  1 689,  refused  even  to  deliberate  on  any  plan  of  Comprehension  .* 

•  Burnet,  ii.  33,  34.  The  best  narratives  of  what  passed  in  this  Con- 
vocation are  the  Historical  Account  appended  to  the  second  edition  of  Vox 
Cleri,  and  the  passage  in  Kennet's  History  to  which  I  have  already  referred 
the  reader.  The  former  narrative  is  by  a  very  high  churchman,  the  latler 
by  a  very  low  cliurchman.  Those  who  are  desirous  of  obtaining  fuller 
information  must  consult  the  contemporary  pamjihlets.  Among  them  are 
Vox  Populi;  Vox  Laid;  Vox  Regis  et  Regni;  the  Healing  Attempt;  the 
Letter  to  a  Friend,  by  Dean  Pridcaux;  the  Letter  from  a  Minister  in  the 
Country  to  a  Member  of  the  Convocation;  the  Answer  to  the  Merry  Answer 
to  Vox  Cleri;  the  Remarks  from  the  Country  upon  two  Letters  relating  to 
the  Convocation;  the  Vindication  of  tlio  Letters  in  answer  to  Vox  Cleri; 
the  Answer  to  the  Country  Minister's  Letter.  All  these  tracts  appeared 
late  in  1689  or  early  in  1690. 



WuiLE  the  Convocation  was  •wrangling  on  one  side  of  Old    cpap. 
Palace  Yard,  the  Parliament  was  wrangling  even  more  fiercely    leso. 
on  the  other.     The  Houses ,  which  had  separated  on  the  twen-  The  v»t- 
tieth  of  August,  had  met  again  on  the  nineteenth  of  October,  meets. 
On  the  day  of  meeting  an  important  change  struck  every  eye. 
Halifax  was  no  longer  on  the  woolsack.     He  had  reason  to  neiirc- 

.  _  ,  .    ,    .        ,  T  .         mcnt  of 

expect  that  the  persecution,  from  which  m  the  preceding  session  usiifax. 
he  had  narrowly  escaped,  would  be  renewed.  The  events 
which  had  taken  place  during  the  recess,  and  especially  the 
disasters  of  the  campaign  in  Ireland,  had  furnished  his  per- 
secutors with  fresh  means  of  annoyance.  His  administration 
bad  not  been  successful;  and,  though  his  failure  was  partly  to 
be  ascribed  to  causes  against  which  no  human  wisdom  could 
have  contended,  it  was  also  partly  to  be  ascribed  to  the 
peculiarities  of  his  temper  and  of  his  intellect.  It  was  certain 
that  a  large  party  in  the  Commons  would  attempt  to  remove 
him;  and  he  could  no  longer  depend  on  the  protection  of  his 
master.  It  was  natural  that  a  prince  who  was  emphatically  a 
man  of  action  should  become  weary  of  a  minister  who  was  a 
man  of  speculation.  Charles,  who  went  to  Council  as  he  went 
to  the  play,  solely  to  be  amused,  was  delighted  with  an  adviser 
who  had  a  hundred  pleasant  and  ingenious  things  to  say  on 
both  sides  of  every  question.  But  "William  had  no  taste  for 
disquisitions  and  disputations,  however  lively  and  subtle, 
which  occupied  much  time  and  led  to  no  conclusion.  It  was 
reported,  and  is  not  improbable,  that  on  one  occasion  he  could 
not  refrain  from  expressing  in  sharp  terms  at  the  council  board 
iiacaulaij.  History.   V,  *  1 

162  msioKT  or  ek gland. 

CHAP,  his  impatience  at  what  seemed  to  him  a  morbid  habit  of  inde- 

XV.        .  . 


■cision.*  Halifax,  mortified  by  his  mischances  in  public  life, 
dejected  by  domestic  calamities,  disturbed  by  apprehensions  of 
an  impeachment,  and  no  longer  supported  by  royal  favour, 
became  sick  of  public  life,  and  began  to  pine  for  the  silence  and 
solitude  of  his  seat  in  Nottinghamshire,  an  old  Cistercian 
Abbey  buried  deep  among  woods.  Early  in  October  it  was 
known  that  he  would  no  longer  preside  in  the  Upper  House. 
It  was  at  the  same  time  whispered  as  a  great  secret  that  he 
meant  to  retire  altogether  from  business,  and  that  he  retained 
the  Privy  Seal  only  till  a  successor  should  be  named.  Chief 
Baron  Atkyns  was  appointed  Speaker  of  the  Lords.** 
Supplies  On  some  important  points  there  appeared  to  be  no  dif- 
ference of  opinion  in  the  legislature.  The  Commons 
unanimously  resolved  that  they  would  stand  by  the  King  in  the 
work  of  reconquering  Ireland  ,  and  that  they  would  enable  him 
to  prosecute  with  vigour  the  war  against  France.***  With  equal 
unanimity  they  voted  an  extraordinary  supply  of  two  millions.f 
It  was  determined  that  the  greater  part  of  this  sum  should  be 
levied  by  an  assessment  on  real  property.  The  rest  was  to  be 
raised  partly  by  a  poll  tax,  and  partly  by  new  duties  on  tea, 
coffee  and  chocolate.  It  was  proposed  that  a  hundred  thousand 
pounds  should  be  exacted  from  the  Jews;  and  this  proposition 
was  at  first  favourably  received  by  the  House:  but  difficulties 
arose.  The  Jews  presented  a  petition  in  which  they  declared 
that  they  could  not  afford  to  pay  such  a  sum,  and  that  they 
would  rather  leave  the  kingdom  than  stay  there  to  be  ruined. 

•  "Halifax  a  eu  une  reprimande  s^vfere  publiquemciit  dans  le  conseil 
par  le  Prince  d'Orange  pour  avoir  trop  balance."  —  Avaux  to  De  Croissy, 
Dublin,  June  4§-  1689.  "His  mercurial  wit,"  says  Burnet,  ii.  4.,  "was  not 
well  suited  with  the  King's  phlegm." 

•*  Clarendon's  Diary,  Oct.  10.  1689;  Lords*  Journals,  Oct.  19.  1689. 
■••  Commons'  Journals,  Oct.  24.  1689. 
•J-  Commons'  Journals,  Nov.  2.  1689. 

wir.r.iAM  AUD  uAur.  163 

Enlightened   politicians  could  not  but  perceive  that  special    chap. 



taxation,  laid  on  a  small  class  which  happens  to  be  rich,  un- ■ 
popular  and   defenceless,    is    really    confiscation,    and   must 
ultimately  impoverish  rather  than  enrich  the  State.    After  some 
discussion,  the  Jew  tax  was  abandoned.* 

The  Bill  of  Kights,  which,  in  the  last  Session,  had,  after  iiio  mii 
causuig  much  altercation  between  the  Houses,  been  suffered  to  [.a^bea. 
drop,  was  again  introduced,  and  was  speedily  passed.  The 
peers  no  longer  insisted  that  any  person  should  be  designated 
by  name  as  successor  to  the  crown,  if  Mary,  Anne  and  William 
should  all  die  without  posterity.  During  eleven  years  no- 
thing more  was  heard  of  the  claims  of  the  House  of  Bruns- 

The  Bill  of  Rights  contained  some  provisions  which  deserve 
special  mention.  The  Convention  had  resolved  that  it  was 
contrary  to  the  interest  of  the  kingdom  to  be  governed  by  a 
Papist,  but  had  prescribed  no  test  which  could  ascertain 
whether  a  prince  was  or  was  not  a  Papist.  The  defect  was  now 
supplied.  It  was  enacted  that  everj-  English  sovereign  should, 
in  full  Parliament,  and  at  the  coronation,  repeat  and  subscribe 
the  Declaration  against  Transubstantiation. 

It  was  also  enacted  that  no  person  who  should  marr)'  a 
Papist  should  be  capable  of  reigning  in  England,  and  that,  if 
the  Sovereign  should  marry  a  Papist,  the  subject  should  be 
absolved  from  allegiance.  Burnet  boasts  that  this  pait  of  the 
Bill  of  Kights  was  his  work.  He  had  little  reason  to  boast:  for 
a  more  wretched  specimen  of  legislative  workmanship  will  not 
easily  be  found.     In   the   first  place,    no  test  is  prescribed. 

•  Commons'  Journals,  Not.  7.  19.,  Dec.  80.  lGfi9.  The  rale  of  the 
House  then  was  that  no  petition  could  be  received  against  the  imposition  of 
a  tax.  This  rule  was,  after  a  very  hard  fight,  rescinded  In  18-42.  The 
petition  of  the  Jews  was  not  received,  and  Is  not  mentioned  in  the  Journals. 
But  something  may  be  learned  about  it  from  Marcissua  Luttrell's  Diary  and 
from  Grey's  Debates,  Nov.  19.  1689. 




cnAP.  Whether  the  consort  of  aSovereign  has  taken  the  oath  of  supre- 
■  macy,  has  signed  the  declaration  against  transubstantiation, 
has  communicated  according  to  the  ritual  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land, are  very  simple  issues  of  fact.  But  whether  the  consort 
of  a  Sovereign  is  or  is  not  a  Papist  is  a  question  about  ■which 
people  may  argue  for  ever.  "UTiat  is  a  Papist?  The  word  is 
not  a  word  of  definite  signification  either  in  law  or  in  theology. 
It  is  merely  a  popular  nickname,  and  means  very  different 
things  in  different  mouths.  Is  every  person  a  Papist  who  is 
willing  to  concede  to  the  Bishop  of  Rome  a  primacy  among 
Christian  prelates?  If  so,  James  the  First,  Charles  the  First, 
Laud,  Heylyn,  were  Papists.*  Or  is  the  appellation  to  be  con- 
fined to  persons  who  hold  the  ultramontane  doctrines  touching 
the  authority  of  the  Holy  See?  If  so,  neither  Bossuet  nor 
Pascal  was  a  Papist. 

What  again  is  the  legal  effect  of  the  words  which  absolve 
the  subject  from  his  allegiance?  Is  it  meant  that  a  person  ar- 
raigned for  high  treason  may  tender  evidence  to  prove  that  the 
Sovereign  has  married  a  Papist?  Would  Thistlewood,  for 
example,  have  been  entitled  to  an  acquittal,  if  he  could  have 
proved  that  King  George  the  Fourth  had  married  Mrs.  Fitzher- 
bert,  and  that  Mrs.  Fitzherbert  was  a  Papist?  It  is  not  easy  to 
believe  that  any  tribunal  would  have  gone  into  such  a  question. 
Yet  to  what  piurpose  is  it  to  enact  that,  in  a  certain  case,  the 
subject  shall  be  absolved  from  his  allegiance,    if  the  tribunal 

•  James,  in  the  very  treatise  in  -whlcli  ho  tried  to  prove  the  Pope  to  be 
Antichrist,  says:  "For  myself,  if  that  were  yet  the  question,  I  would  witli 
all  my  heart  give  my  consent  that  the  Bishop  of  Rome  should  have  tlie  first 
seat."  There  is  a  remarltable  letter  on  this  subject  written  by  James  to 
Charles  and  Bucl^ingham,  when  they  were  in  Spain.  Heylyn,  spealcing  of 
Laud's  negotiation  with  Rome,  says:  "So  that  upon  the  point  the  Pope  was 
to  content  himself  among  us  In  England  with  a  priority  instead  of  a 
superiority  over  other  Bishops,  and  with  a  primacy  instead  of  a  supremacy 
in  those  parts  of  Christendom,  which  I  conceive  no  man  of  learning  and 
sobriety  would  have  grudged  to  grant  him." 


before  which  he  is  tried  for  a  violation  of  liis  allcciauce  is  not  to    chap. 
go  into  the  question  whether  that  case  has  arisen?  "Tss? — 

The  question  of  the  dispensing  power  was  treated  in  a  very 
dilJtrent  manner,  was  fully  considered,  and  was  finally  settled 
in  the  only  way  in  which  it  could  be  settled.  The  Declaration 
of  Right  had  gone  no  further  than  to  pronounce  that  the  dispen- 
sing power,  as  of  late  exercised,  was  illegal.  That  a  certain 
dispensing  power  belonged  to  the  Crown  was  a  proposition 
sanctioned  by  authorities  and  precedents  of  which  even  AVhig 
la\V)'crs  could  not  speak  without  respect;  but  as  to  the  precise 
extent  of  this  power  hardly  any  two  jurists  were  agreed;  and 
every  attemjjt  to  frame  a  definition  had  failed.  At  length  by 
the  JJill  of  Rights  the  auonuilous  prerogative  which  had  caused 
BO  many  fierce  disputes  was  absolutely  and  for  ever  taken  away.* 

In  the  House  of  Commons  there  was,  as  might  have  been  inquiry 
expected,  a  series  of  sharp  debates  on  the  misfortunes  of  the  abuses, 
autumn.  The  negligence  or  corruption  of  the  Navy  Board ,  the 
frauds  of  the  contractors,  the  rapacity  of  the  captains  of  the 
King's  ships,  the  losses  of  the  London  merchants,  were  themes 
for  many  keen  speeches.  There  was  indeed  reason  for  anger. 
A  severe  inquiry,  conducted  by  William  in  person  at  the  Trea- 
surj',  had  just  elicited  the  fact  that  much  of  the  salt  with  which 
the  meat  furnished  to  the  fleet  had  been  cured  had  been  by  ac- 
cident mixed  with  galls  such  as  are  used  for  the  purpose  of  ma- 
king ink.  The  victuallers  threw  the  blame  on  the  rats,  and 
maintained  that  the  provisions  thus  seasoned,  though  certainly 
disagreeable  to  the  palate,  were  not  injurious  to  health.**  The 
Commons  were  in  no  temper  to  listen  to  such  excuses.  Several 
persons  who  had  been  concerned  in  cheating  the  government 
and  poisoning  the  sailors  were  taken  into  custody  by  the  Ser- 

•  Stat.  1  VV.  .t  M.  Ecsd.  2.  c.  2. 
••  Trcaaury  Miauto  Buok,  Ncv.  3.  1689. 


CHAP,  jeant.*    But  no  censure  was  passed  on  the  chief  offender,  Tor- 



rington;  nor  does  it  appear  that  a  single  voice  was  raised 
against  him.  He  had  personal  friends  in  both  parties.  He  had 
many  popular  qualities.  Even  his  vices  were  not  those  which 
excite  public  hatred.  The  people  readily  forgave  a  courageous 
openhanded  sailor  for  being  too  fond  of  his  bottle,  his  boon 
companions  and  his  mistresses,  and  did  not  sufficiently  consider 
how  great  must  be  the  perils  of  a  country  of  which  the  safety 
depends  on  a  man  sunk  in  indolence,  stupified  by  wine,  ener- 
vated by  licentiousness,  ruined  by  prodigality,  and  enslaved 
by  sycophants  and  harlots. 
Inquiry  The  Sufferings  of  the  army  in  Ireland  called  forth  strong  ex- 

con'duct  pressions  of  sympathy  and  indignation.  The  Commons  did 
Irish  war.  justice  to  the  firmness  and  wisdom  with  which  Schomberg  had 
conducted  the  most  arduous  of  all  campaigns.  That  he  had  not 
achieved  more  was  attributed  chiefly  to  the  villany  of  the  Com- 
missariat. The  pestilence  itself,  it  was  said ,  would  have  been 
no  serious  calamity  if  it  had  not  been  aggravated  by  the  wicked- 
ness of  man.  The  disease  had  generally  spared  those  who  had 
warm  garments  and  bedding,  and  had  swept  away  by  thousands 
those  who  were  thinly  clad  and  who  slept  on  the  wet  ground. 
Immense  sums  had  been  drawn  out  of  the  Treasury:  yet  the  pay 
of  the  troops  was  in  arrear.  Hundreds  of  horses,  tens  of  thou- 
sands of  shoes,  had  been  paid  for  by  the  public :  yet  the  baggage 
was  left  behind  for  want  of  beasts  to  draw  it;  and  the  soldiers 
were  marching  barefoot  through  the  mire.  Seventeen  hundred 
poimds  had  been  charged  to  the  government  for  medicines:  yet 
the  common  drugs  with  which  every  apothecary  in  the  smallest 
market  town  was  provided  were  not  to  be  found  in  the  plague- 
stricken  camp.  The  cry  against  Shales  was  loud.  An  address 
was  carried  to  the  throne,  requesting  that  he  might  be  sent  for 

•  Commons' Journals  and  Grey's  Debates ,  Nov.  13,  14.  18,  19.  23.28. 


to  England,  and  that  his  accounts  and  papers  might  be  secured.  cnAP. 
With  this  request  the  King  readily  complied;  but  the  Whig  -  ^^^f- 
majority  was  not  satisfied.  By  whom  had  Shales  been  recom- 
mended for  so  important  a  place  as  that  of  Commissary  General? 
He  had  been  a  favourite  at  "Whitehall  in  the  worst  times.  He 
had  been  zealous  for  the  Declaration  of  Indulgence.  AMiy  had 
this  creature  of  James  been  entrusted  with  the  business  of 
catering  for  the  army  of  William?  It  was  proposed  by  some  of 
those  who  were  bent  on  driving  all  Tories  and  Trimmers  from 
office  to  ask  His  Majesty  by  whose  advice  a  man  so  undeserving 
of  the  royal  confidence  had  been  employed.  The  most  moderate 
and  judicious  WTiigs  pointed  out  the  indecency  and  impolicy  of 
interrogating  the  King,  and  of  forcing  him  either  to  accuse  his 
ministers  or  to  quarrel  with  the  representatives  of  his  people. 
"Advise  His  Majesty,  if  you  wiU,"  saidSomers,  "to  withdraw 
his  confidence  from  the  counsellors  who  recommended  this  un- 
fortunate appointment.  Such  advice,  given,  as  we  should 
probably  give  it,  unanimously,  must  have  great  weight  with 
him.  But  do  not  put  to  him  a  question  such  as  no  private 
gentleman  would  willingly  answer.  Do  not  force  him,  in  de- 
fence of  his  own  personal  dignity,  to  protect  the  ver}-  men  whom 
you  wish  him  to  discard."  After  a  hard  fight  of  two  days,  and 
several  divisions,  the  address  was  carried  by  a  hundred  and 
ninety  five  votes  to  a  hundred  and  forty  six.*  The  King,  as 
might  have  been  foreseen,  coldly  refused  to  turn  informer;  and 
the  House  did  not  press  him  further.**  To  another  address, 
which  requested  that  a  Commission  might  be  sent  to  examine 
into  the  state  of  things  in  Ireland,  William  returned  a  very 
gracious  answer,  and  desired  the  Commons  to  name  the  Com- 
missioners.    The  Commons,    not  to  be  outdone  in  courtesy, 

•  Commons'  Jonmala  and  Grey's  Debates,  November  26.  and  37.  1689. 
•»  Commons'  Journals,  November  28.,  December  2.  1689. 


CHAP,  excused  themselves,  and  left  it  to  His  Majesty's  wisdom  to 
—j^ —  select  the  fittest  persons.* 

Recep-  In  the  midst  of  the  angry  debates  on  the  Irish  war  a  pleasing 

Walker  incident  produced  for  a  moment  goodhumour  and  unanimity, 
UDd"^*  Walker  had  arrived  in  London ,  and  had  been  received  there 
with  boundless  enthusiasm.  His  face  was  in  every  print  shop. 
Newsletters  describing  his  person  and  his  demeanour  were  sent 
to  every  comer  of  the  kingdom.  Broadsides  of  prose  and  verse 
written  in  his  praise  were  cried  in  every  street.  The  Companies 
of  London  feasted  him  splendidly  in  their  halls.  The  common 
people  crowded  to  gaze  on  him  wherever  he  moved,  and  almost 
stifled  him  with  rough  caresses.  Both  the  Universities  offered 
him  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity.  Some  of  his  admirers 
advised  him  to  present  himself  at  the  palace  in  that  military 
garb  in  which  he  had  repeatedly  headed  the  sallies  of  his  fellow 
townsmen.  But,  with  a  better  judgment  than  he  sometimes 
showed,  he  made  his  appearance  at  Hampton  Court  in  the 
peaceful  robe  of  his  profession,  was  most  graciously  received, 
and  was  presented  with  an  order  for  five  thousand  pounds. 
"And  do  not  think,  Doctor,"  AVilliam  said,  with  gieat  benignity, 
"that  I  offer  you  this  sum  as  pajTuent  for  your  services. 
I  assure  you  that  I  consider  your  claims  on  me  as  not  at  all 

It  is  true  that  amidst  the  general  a])plause  the  voice  of  de- 
traction made  itself  heard.  The  defenders  of  Londonderry 
were  men  of  two  nations  and  of  two  religions.  During  the 
siege,  hatred  of  the  liishry  had  held  together  all  Saxons;  and 
hatred  of  Popery  had  held  together  all  Protestants.    But,  when 

•  Commons'  Journals  and  Grey's  Debates,  November  80,,  December  2. 

••  London  Gazette,  September  2.  1G89;  Observations  upon  Mr.  Walker's 
Account  of  the  Siege  of  Londonderry,  licensed  October  4.  1689;  Narcissus 
Luttrell's  Diary;  Mr.  J.  Mackenzie's  Narrative  a  false  Libel,  a  Defence  of 
Mr.  G.  Walker  written  by  bis  Friend  in  his  Absence ,  1690. 

WLLLIAM    AUD   MAill.  169 

the  danger  was  over,  the  Englishman  and  tlie  Scotchman,  the  chap. 
Episcopalian  and  the  Tresbyterian,  began  to  wrangle  al)out  the  — ^^ - 
distribution  of  praises  and  rewards.  The  dissenting  preachers, 
who  had  zealously  assisted  AValker  in  the  hour  of  peril,  com- 
plained that,  in  the  account  which  he  jjuhlished  of  the  siege, 
he  had,  thougli  acknowledging  that  tliuy  hud  done  good  ser- 
vice, omitted  to  mention  their  names.  The  complaint  was  just; 
and,  had  it  been  made  in  language  becoming  Christians  and 
gentlemen,  would  probably  have  produced  a  considerable  effect 
on  the  public  mind.  But  Walker's  accusers  in  their  resent- 
ment disregarded  truth  and  decency,  used  scurrilous  language, 
brought  calumnious  accusations  which  were  triumi)hantly  re- 
futed, and  thus  threw  away  the  advantage  which  they  liad 
possessed.  Walker  defended  himself  with  moderation  and 
candour.  His  friends  fought  his  battle  with  vigour,  and  re- 
taliated keenly  on  his  assailants.  At  Edinburgh  perhajis  the 
public  opinion  might  have  been  against  him.  But  in  London 
the  controversy  seems  only  to  have  raised  his  character.  He 
was  regarded  as  an  Anglican  divine  of  eminent  merit,  who, 
after  having  heroically  defended  his  religion  against  an  army 
of  Popish  llapparees,  was  rabbled  by  a  mob  of  Scotch  Co- 

He  presented  to  the  Commons  a  petition  setting  forth  the 
destitute  condition  to  which  the  widows  and  orphans  of  some 
brave  men  who  had  fallen  during  the  siege  were  now  reduced. 
The  Commons  instantly  jiassed  a  vote  of  thanks  to  him,  and 

•  Walker's  True  Account,  1689:  An  Apology  for  the  Failuies  charged 
on  tlie  True  Account,  1689;  Reflections  on  the  Apology,  I6S9;  A  Vindica- 
tion of  the  True  Account  by  Walker,  1689;  Mackenzie's  Narrative,  1690; 
Mr.  Mackenzie's  Narrative  a  False  Libel,  1090;  Dr.  Walker's  Invisible 
Cliampion  foyled  by  Mackenzie,  1690;  Wehvood's  Mercurius  Uefurmatus, 
Dec.  4.  and  II,  16tt9.  The  Oxford  editor  of  Burnet's  History  expresses  liis 
surprise  at  the  silence  which  the  Bishop  observes  about  Walker.  In  the 
Burnet  MS.  Uarl.  6584.  there  is  an  animated  pane^fyrio  on  Walker.  Why 
that  panegyric  does  not  appear  In  the  History,  I  am  at  a  luss  to  explain. 


CHAP,  resolved  to  present  to  the  King  an  address  requesting  that 
ten  thousand  pounds  might  be  distributed  among  the  families 


whose  sufferingp  had  been  so  touchingly  described.  The  next 
day  it  was  rumoured  about  the  benches  that  "Walker  was  in  the 
lobby.  He  was  called  in.  The  Speaker,  with  great  dignity  and 
grace,  informed  him  that  the  House  had  made  haste  to  comply 
with  his  request,  commended  him  in  high  terms  for  having 
taken  on  himself  to  govern  and  defend  a  city  betrayed  by  its 
proper  governors  and  defenders,  and  charged  him  to  tell  those 
who  had  fought  under  him  that  their  fidelity  and  valour  would 
always  be  held  in  grateful  remembrance  by  the  Commons  of 
Edmund  About  the  Same  time  the  course  of  parliamentary  business 
was  diversified  by  another  curious  and  interesting  episode, 
which,  like  the  former,  sprang  out  of  the  events  of  the  Irish 
war.  In  the  preceding  spring,  when  eveiy  messenger  from 
Ireland  brought  evil  tidings,  and  when  the  authority  of  James 
was  acknowledged  in  every  part  of  that  kingdom,  except 
behind  the  ramparts  of  Londonderry  and  on  the  banks  of 
Lough  Erne,  it  was  natural  that  Englishmen  should  remember 
with  how  terrible  an  energy  the  great  Puritan  warriors  of  the 
preceding  generation  had  crushed  the  insurrection  of  the  Celtic 
race.  The  names  of  Cromwell,  of  Ireton,  and  of  the  other 
chiefs  of  the  conquering  army,  were  in  many  mouths.  One 
of  those  chiefs,  Edmund  Ludlow,  was  still  living.  At  twenty 
two  he  had  served  as  a  volunteer  in  the  parliamentary  army;  at 
thirty  he  had  risen  to  the  rank  of  Lieutenant  General,  He  was 
now  old;  but  the  vigour  of  his  mind  was  unimpaired.  His  cou- 
rage was  of  the  truest  temper;  his  understanding  strong,  but 
narrow.  What  he  saw  he  saw  clearly:  but  he  saw  not  much  at 
a  glance.   In  an  age  of  perfidy  and  levity,  he  had,  amidst  mani* 

*  Commona'  Joamals,  November  18.  and   19<  1689;  and  Grey'a   De- 

WILLIAM   AND   ,MARY.  171 

fold  temptations  and  dangers,  adhered  finnly  to  the  principles    chap 

of  his  youth.  His  enemies  could  not  deny  that  his  life  had  been 
consistent,  and  that  with  the  same  spirit  with  which  he  had 
stood  up  against  the  Stuarts  he  had  stood  up  against  the  Crom- 
wells.  There  was  but  a  single  blemish  on  his  fame:  but  that 
blemish,  in  the  opinion  of  the  great  majority  of  his  countr)-- 
men,  was  one  for  which  no  merit  could  compensate  and  which 
no  time  could  efface.  His  name  and  seal  were  on  the  death 
warrant  of  Charles  the  First. 

After  the  Restoration,  Ludlow  found  a  refuge  on  the  shores 
of  the  Lake  of  Geneva.  He  was  accompanied  thither  by  another 
member  of  the  High  Court  of  Justice,  John  Lisle,  the  husband 
of  that  Alice  Lisle  whose  death  has  left  a  lasting  stain  on  the 
memory  of  James  the  Second.  But  even  in  Switzerland  the 
regicides  were  not  safe.  A  large  price  was  set  on  their  heads; 
and  a  succession  of  Irish  adventurers,  inflamed  by  national  and 
religious  animosity,  attempted  to  earn  the  bribe.  Lisle  fell  by 
the  hand  of  one  of  these  assassins.  But  Ludlow  escaped  unhurt 
from  all  the  machinations  of  his  enemies.  A  small  knot  of 
vehement  and  determined  Whigs  regarded  him  with  a  venera- 
tion, which  increased  as  years  rolled  away,  and  left  him  almost 
the  only  survivor ,  certainly  the  most  illustrious  survivor,  of  a 
mighty  race  of  men,  the  conquerors  in  a  terrible  civil  war,  the 
judges  of  a  king,  the  founders  of  a  republic.  More  than  once 
he  had  been  invited  by  the  enemies  of  the  House  of  Stuart  to 
leave  his  asylum,  to  become  their  captain,  and  to  give  the 
signal  for  rebellion:  but  he  had  wisely  refused  to  take  any  part 
in  the  desperate  enterprises  which  the  Wildmans  and  Fergusons 
were  never  wearj'  of  planning.* 

The  Revolution  opened  a  new  prospect  to  him.  The  right 
of  the  people  to  resist  oppression,  a  right  which,  during  many 
years,  no  man  could  assert  without  exposing  himself  to  eo' 

•  Wade's  Confession,  Ilarl.  MS.  6645. 





CHAP,  cleslastical  anathemas  and  to  civil  penalties,  had  been  solemnW 

XV  * 

recognised  by  the  Estates  of  the  realm,  and  had  been  pro- 
claimed by  Garter  King  at  Arms  on  the  very  spot  where  the 
memorable  scaffold  had  been  set  up  forty  years  before.  James 
had  not,  indeed,  like  Charles,  died  the  death  of  a  traitor. 
Yet  the  punishment  of  the  son  might  seem  to  differ  from  the 
punishment  of  the  father  rather  in  degree  than  in  principle. 
Those  who  had  recently  waged  war  on  a  tyrant,  who  had  turned 
him  out  of  his  palace,  who  had  frightened  him  out  of  his 
country,  who  had  deprived  him  of  his  crown,  might  perhaps 
think  that  the  crime  of  going  one  step  further  had  been  suffi- 
ciently expiated  by  thirty  years  of  banishment.  Ludlow's  ad- 
mirers ,  some  of  whom  appear  to  have  been  in  high  public  si- 
tuations, assured  him  that  he  might  safely  venture  over,  nay, 
that  he  might  expect  to  be  sent  in  high  command  to  Ireland, 
where  his  name  was  still  cherished  by  his  old  soldiers  and  by 
their  children.*  He  came;  and  early  in  September  it  was 
known  that  he  was  in  London.**  But  it  soon  appeared  that  he 
and  his  friends  had  misunderstood  the  temper  of  the  English 
people.  By  all,  except  a  small  extreme  section  of  the  Whig 
party,  the  act,  in  which  he  had  borne  a  part  never  to  be  for- 
gotten, was  regarded,  not  merely  with  the  disapprobation  due 
to  a  great  violation  of  law  and  justice,  but  with  hoiTor  such 
as  even  the  Gunpowder  Plot  had  not  excited.  The  absurd  and 
almost  impious  service  which  is  still  read  in  our  churches  on 
the  thirtieth  of  January  had  produced  in  the  minds  of  the  ^nllgar 
a  strange  association  of  ideas.  The  sufferings  of  Charles  were 
confounded  with  the  sufferings  of  the  Redeemer  of  mankind, 
and  every  regicide  was  a  Judas ,  a  Caiaphas  or  a  Herod.     It  was 

*  See  the  Preface  to  the  First  Edition  of  his  Memoirs,  Vevay,  1698. 
»»  "Colonel  Ludlow,   an  old  Oliverian,   and  one  of  King  Charles  the 
First  his  Judges,   is  arrived  lately  in  this  kingdom  from  Switzerland."  — 
Karcissiis  LiittrcU's  Diary,  September  1689. 

WELLrAM    AND   WART.  173 

tnie  that,  when  Ludlow  sate  on  the  tribunal  in  Westminstor    chap. 
Hull,  he  was  an  ardent  enthusiast  of  twenty  ei-^'lit,  and  that  — ^^ 
he  now  returned  from  exile  a  greyheaded  and  wrinkled  man  in 
his  seventieth  year.     Perhaps,  therefore,  if  he  had  been  con- 
tent to  live  in  close  retirement,  and  to  shun  places  of  public 
resort,  even  zealous  Koyalists  might  not  have  grudged  the  old 
Republican  a  grave  in  his  native  soil.     But  he  had  no  thought 
of  hiding  himself.     It  was  soon  rumoured  that  one  of  those 
murderers,  who  had  brought  on  England  guilt,  for  which  she 
annually,  in  sackcloth  and  ashes,  implored  God  not  to  enter 
into  judgment  with  her,  was  strutting  about  the  streets  of  her 
capital,  and  boasting  that  he  should  ere  long  command  her 
armies.     His  lodgings,  it  was  said,  were  the  head  quarters  of 
the  most  noted  enemies  of  monarchy  and  episcopacy.*    The 
subject  was  brought  before  the  House  of  Commons.     The  Tory 
members  called  loudly  for  justice  on  the  traitor.     None  of  the 
^V^ligs  ventured  to  say  a  word  in  his  defence.     One  or  two 
faintly  expressed  a  doubt  whether  the  fact  of  his  return  had 
been  proved  by  evidence  such  as  would  warrant  a  parliamentary 
proceeding.    The  objection  was  disregarded.     It  was  resolved, 
without  a  division,  that  the  King  should  be  requested  to  issue 
a  proclamation  for  the  apprehending  of  Ludlow.     Seymour  pre- 
sented the  address;  and  the  King  promised  to  do  what  was 
asked.     Some  days  however  elapsed  before  the  proclamation 
appeared.**    Ludlow  had  time  to  make  his  escape,  and  again 
hid  himself  in  his  Alpine  retreat,  never  again  to  emerge.    Eng- 
lish travellers  are  still  taken  to  see  his  house  close  to  the  lake, 
and  his  tomb  in  a  church  among  the  vineyards  which  overlook 
the  little  town  of  Vevay.     On  the  house  was  formerly  legible 
an  inscription  purporting  that  to  him  to  whom  God  is  a  father 

•  Third  Caveat  against  the  Whips,  1712. 
••  Commons'  JoiimalH.  November  6.  ana  8.  lfiH9;  Grey's  Debates;  Lon- 
don Gazette,  November  18, 


CHAP,  every  land  is  a  fatherland*;  and  the  epitaph  on  the  tomb  still 
^^'     attests  the  feelings  with  which  the  stem  old  Puritan  to  the  last 


regarded  the  people  of  Ireland  and  the  House  of  Stuart. 
Violence  Torics  and  "UTiigs  had  concurred,  or  had  affected  to  concur, 
Whigs,  in  paying  honour  to  Walker  and  in  putting  a  brand  on  Ludlow. 
But  the  feud  between  the  two  parties  was  more  bitter  than  ever. 
The  King  had  entertained  a  hope  that,  during  the  recess ,  the 
animosities  which  had  in  the  preceding  session  prevented  an 
Act  of  Indemnity  from  passing  would  have  been  mitigated. 
On  the  day  on  which  the  Houses  reassembled,  he  had  pressed 
them  earnestly  to  put  an  end  to  the  fear  and  discord  which 
could  never  cease  to  exist,  while  great  numbers  held  their  pro- 
perty and  their  liberty,  and  not  a  few  even  their  lives,  by  an 
uncertain  tenure.  His  exhortation  proved  of  no  effect.  Octo- 
ber, November,  December  passed  away;  and  nothing  was 
done.  An  Indemnity  Bill  indeed  had  been  brought  in,  and 
read  once ;  but  it  had  ever  since  lain  neglected  on  the  table  of 
the  House.**  Vindictive  as  had  been  the  mood  in  which  the 
Whigs  had  left  Westminster,  the  mood  in  which  they  returned 
was  more  vindictive  still.  Smarting  from  old  sufferings ,  drunk 
with  recent  prosperity,  burning  with  implacable  resentment, 
confident  of  irresistible  strength,  they  were  not  less  rash  and 
headstrong  than  in  the  days  of  the  Exclusion  BilL  Sixteen 
hundred  and  eighty  was  come  again.  Again  all  compro- 
mise was  rejected.  Again  the  voices  of  the  wisest  and  most 
upright  friends  of  liberty  were  drowned  by  the  clamour  of 
hotheaded  and  designing  agitators.  Again  moderation  was 
despised  as  cowardice,  or  execrated  as  treachery.  All  the 
lessons  taught  by  a  cruel  experience  were  forgotten.    The  very 

•  "Omne  solum  forti  patria,  quia  patris."  See  Addison's  Travels.  It 
Is  a  remarkable  circumstance  that  Addison,  though  a  Whig,  speaks  of  Lud- 
low in  language  which  would  better  hare  become  a  Tory,  and  sneers  at  the 
Inscription  as  cant. 

••  Commons*  Journals,  Not.  1.  7.  1689. 

WILLIAJI   4uND    MAJiY.  175 

same  men  who  had  expiated,  by  years  of  humiliation,  of  im-  chap. 
prisonment,  of  penury,  of  exile,  the  folly  with  wliich  they  had  ■  ^^^^  ■ 
misused  the  advantaj^e  given  them  by  the  I'opish  plot,  now 
misused  with  equal  folly  the  advantage  given  them  by  the  Ke- 
volution.  The  second  madness  would,  in  all  probability,  like 
the  first,  have  ended  in  their  proscription,  dispersion,  decima- 
tion, but  for  the  magnanimity  and  wisdom  of  that  great  prince, 
who,  bent  on  fulfilling  his  mission,  and  insensible  alike  to 
flattery  and  to  outrage,  coldly  and  inflexibly  saved  them  in 
their  own  despite. 

It  seemed  that  nothing  but  blood  would  satisfy  them.  The  impeach- 
aspect  and  the  temper  of  the  House  of  Commons  reminded  men 
of  the  time  of  the  ascendency  of  Gates;  and,  that  nothing 
might  be  wanting  to  the  resemblance.  Gates  himself  was  there. 
As  a  witness,  indeed,  he  could  now  render  no  service:  but  he 
had  caught  the  scent  of  carnage,  and  came  to  gloat  on  the 
butchery  in  which  he  could  no  longer  take  an  active  part.  His 
loathsome  features  were  again  daily  seen,  and  his  well  known 
"Ah  Laard,  ah  Laard!"  was  again  daily  heard  in  the  lobbies 
and  in  the  gallerj-.*  The  House  fell  first  on  the  renegades  of 
the  late  reign.  Gf  those  renegades  the  Earls  of  Peterborough 
and  Salisbury  were  the  highest  in  rank,  but  were  also  the 
lowest  in  intellect:  for  Salisburj'  had  always  been  an  idiot;  and 
Peterborough  had  long  been  a  dotard.  It  was  however  re- 
solved by  the  Commons  that  both  had,  by  joining  the  Church 
of  Rome,  committed  high  treason,  and  that  both  should  be 
impeached.**  A  message  to  that  eff^ect  was  sent  to  the  Lords. 
Poor  old  Peterborough  was  instantly  taken  into  custody,  and 
was  sent,  tottering  on  a  crutch,  and  wTapped  up  in  woollen 
slulfs,  to  the  Tower.  The  next  day  Salisbury  was  brought  to 
the  bar  of  his  peers.     He  muttered  something  about  his  youth 

•  Roger  North's  Life  of  Dudley  North. 
••  Couimous'  Journals,  Oct.  26.  1CS9. 




CHAP,  and  his  foreign  education,  and  was  then  sent  to  bear  Peter- 
borough company.*  The  Commons  had  meanwhile  passed  on 
to  offenders  of  humbler  station  and  better  understanding.  Sir 
Edward  Hales  was  brought  before  them.  He  had  doubtless, 
by  holding  office  in  defiance  of  the  Test  Act,  incurred  heavy 
penalties.  But  these  penalties  fell  far  short  of  what  the  re- 
vengeful spirit  of  the  victorious  party  demanded;  and  he  was 
committed  as  a  traitor.**  Then  Obadiah  "Walker  was  led  in. 
He  behaved  with  a  pusillanimity  and  disingenuousness  v/hich 
deprived  Lim  of  all  claim  to  respect  or  pity.  He  protested  that 
he  had  never  changed  his  religion,  that  his  opinions  had  al- 
ways been  and  still  were  these  of  some  highly  respectable  di- 
vines of  the  Church  of  England,  and  that  there  were  points  on 
which  he  differed  from  the  Papists.  In  spite  of  this  quibbling, 
he  was  pronounced  guilty  of  high  treason ,  and  sent  to  pri- 
son.*** Castlemaine  was  put  next  to  the  bar,  interrogated,  and 
committed  under  a  warrant  which  charged  him  with  the  ca- 
pital crime  of  trying  to  reconcile  the  kingdom  to  the  Church 
of  Home,  f 

In  the  meantime  the  Lords  had  appointed  a  Committee  to 
inquire  who  were  answerable  for  the  deaths  of  Russell,  of 
Sidney,  and  of  some  other  eminent  Whigs.  Of  this  Committee, 
which  was  popularly  called  the  Murder  Committee,  the  Earl 
of  Stamford,  a  Whig  who  had  been  deeply  concerned  in  the 
plots  formed  by  his  party  against  the  Stuarts,  was  chairman.ff 
The  books  of  the  Council  were  inspected :  the  clerks  of  the 
Council  were  examined:  some  facts  disgraceful  to  the  Judges, 

•  Lords*  Journals,  October  2G.  and  27.  1089. 
••  Commons'  Journals,  Oct.  26.  1C89. 

*»*  Commons'  Journals,  Oct.  26.  1689;  Wood's  AthensB  Oxonienses; 
Dod's  Church  History,  VIII.  ii.  8. 

f  Commong'  Journals,   October  28.  1C89.     The  proceedings  will  be 
found  in  the  collection  of  State  Trials, 
■t-f  Lords'  Jonraals ,  Nov.  2.  and  C.  1689. 


to  tLe  Solicitors  of  tho  Treasury,  to  the  witnesses  for  the  Crown,    cnAP. 



and  to  the  keepers  of  the  state  prisons,  were  eHcited:  but  about  • 
the  packing  of  the  juries  no  evidence  could  be  obtained.  Ilie 
Sheritt'a  kept  their  own  counsel.  Sir  Dudley  North,  in  par- 
ticular, underwent  a  most  severe  cross  examination  with 
characteristic  clearness  of  head  and  firmness  of  temper,  and 
steadily  asserted  that  he  had  never  troubled  himself  about  the 
political  opinions  of  the  persons  whom  he  put  on  any  panel,  but 
had  merely  inquired  whether  they  were  substantial  citizens. 
He  was  undoubtedly  lying;  and  so  some  of  the  "Whig  peers  told 
him  in  very  plain  words  and  in  very  loud  tones:  but,  though 
they  were  morally  certain  of  his  guilt,  they  could  find  no  proofs 
which  would  support  a  criminal  charge  against  him.  The  in- 
delible stain  however  remains  on  his  memory,  and  is  still  a 
subject  of  lamentation  to  those  who,  while  loathing  his  dis- 
honesty and  cruelty,  cannot  forget  that  he  was  one  of  the  most 
original,  profound  and  accurate  thinkers  of  his  age.* 

Halifax,  more  fortunate  than  Dudley  North,  was  completely  . 
cleared,  not  only  from  legal,  but  also  fi-om  moral  guilt.     He 
was  the  cliief  object  of  attack;  and  yet  a  severe  examination 
brought  nothing  to  light  that  was  not  to  his  honour.     Tillotson 
was  called  as  a  witness.  He  swore  that  he  had  been  the  channel 
of  communication  between  Halifax  and  Russell  when  Russell 
was  a  prisoner  in  the  Tower.     "My  Lord  Halifax,"  said  the 
Doctor,  "s]\owed  a  very  compassionate  concern  for  my  Lord 
Russell;  and  my  Lord  Russell  charged  me  Mithhis  last  thanks 
for  my  Lord  Halifax's  humanity  and  kindness."    It  was  proved 
that  the  unfortunate  Duke  of  Monmouth  had  borne  similar 
testimony  to  Halifax's  good  nature.    One  hostile  witness  indeed  Maievo- 
was  produced,  John  Hampden,  whose  mean  supplications  and  john 
enormous  bribes  had  saved  his  neck  from  the  halter.     He  was  """'P''*'''- 
now  a  powerful  and  prosperous  man:  he  was  a  leader  of  the 

•  Lords'  Journals,  Dec.  20.  1689;  Life  of  Dudley  North. 
yf'icauhvj ,  IHstor]/,  V.  12 



CHAP,  dominant  party  in  the  House  of  Commons;  and  yet  he  was  one 
^^'  of  the  most  unhappy  beings  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  The 
recollection  of  the  pitiable  figure  which  he  had  made  at  the  bar 
of  the  Old  Bailey  embittered  his  temper,  and  impelled  him  to 
avenge  himself  without  mercy  on  those  who  had  directly  or  in- 
directly contributed  to  his  humiliation.  Of  all  the  Whigs  he 
was  the  most  intolerant  and  the  most  obstinately  hostile  to  all 
plans  of  amnesty.  The  consciousness  that  he  had  disgraced 
himself  made  him  jealous  of  his  dignity  and  quick  to  take 
offence.  He  constantly  paraded  his  services  and  his  sufferings, 
as  if  he  hoped  that  this  ostentatious  display  would  hide  from 
others  the  stain  which  nothing  could  hide  from  himself.  Having 
during  many  months  harangued  vehemently  against  Halifax  in 
the  House  of  Commons,  he  now  came  to  swear  against  Halifax 
before  the  Lords.  The  scene  was  curious.  The  witness  re- 
presented himself  as  having  saved  his  countiy,  as  having 
planned  the  Revolution,  as  having  placed  their  Majesties  on 
the  throne.  He  then  gave  evidence  intended  to  show  that  his 
life  had  been  endangered  by  the  machinations  of  the  Lord  Privy 
Seal:  but  that  evidence  missed  the  mark  at  which  it  was  aimed, 
and  recoiled  on  him  from  whom  it  proceeded.  Hampden  was 
forced  to  acknowledge  that  he  had  sent  his  wife  to  implore  the 
intercession  of  the  man  Avhom  he  was  now  persecuting.  "Is  it 
not  strange,"  asked  Halifax,  "  that  you  should  have  requested 
the  good  offices  of  one  whose  arts  had  brought  your  head  into 
peril?"  "Not  at  all,"  said  Hampden;  "  to  whom  was  I  to  apply 
except  to  the  men  who  were  in  power?  I  applied  to  Lord 
Jeffreys:  I  applied  to  Father  Petre;  and  I  paid  them  six  thou- 
sand pounds  for  their  services."  "But  did  Lord  Halifax  take 
any  money?"  "No:  I  cannot  say  that  he  did."  "And,  Mr. 
Hampden,  did  not  you  afterwards  send  your  wife  to  thank  him 
for  his  kindness?"  "Yes:  I  believe  I  did,"  answered  Hamp- 
den ;  "  but  I  know  of  no  solid  effects  of  that  kindness.    If  there 


were  any,  1  should  be  obliged  to  my  Lord  to  tell  me  what  they  crup. 
were."  Llisgruceful  as  had  been  the  appearance  which  this  — T^gj— 
degenerate  heir  of  an  illustrious  name  had  made  at  the  Old 
Bailey,  the  ai)})curaiice  which  he  made  before  the  Committee  of 
Murder  was  more  disgraceful  still.*  It  is  pleasing  to  know  that 
a  person  who  had  been  far  more  cruelly  wronged  than  he,  but 
whose  nature  ditfered  widely  from  his,  the  nobleminded  Lady 
Kussell,  remonstrated  against  the  injustice  with  which  the 
extreme  Whigs  treated  Halifax.** 

The  malice  of  John  Hampden,  however,  was  unwearied  and 
unabashed.  A  few  days  later,  in  a  committee  of  the  whole 
House  of  Commons  on  the  state  of  the  nation,  he  made  a  bitter 
speech,  in  which  he  ascribed  all  the  disasters  of  the  year  to  the 
influence  of  the  men  who  had,  in  the  days  of  the  Exclusion  Bill, 
been  censured  by  Parliaments,  of  the  men  who  had  attempted 
to  mediate  between  James  and  William.  The  King,  he  said, 
ought  to  dismiss  from  his  counsels  and  presence  all  the  three 
noblemen  who  had  been  sent  to  negotiate  with  him  at  Hunger- 
ford.  He  went  on  to  speak  of  the  danger  of  employing  men  of 
republican  principles.  He  doubtless  alluded  to  the  chief  ob- 
ject of  his  implacable  malignity.  For  Halifax,  though  from 
temper  averse  to  violent  changes,  was  well  known  to  be  in 
speculation  a  republican,  and  often  talked,  with  much  inge- 
nuity and  pleasantry,  against  hereditary  monarchy.  The  only 
effect,  however,  of  the  rellection  now  throwTi  on  him  was  to  call 
forth  a  roar  of  derision.  That  a  Hampden,  that  the  grandson 
of  the  great  leader  of  the  Long  Parliament,  that  a  man  who 
boasted  of  having  conspired  with  Algernon  Sidney  against  the 
royal  House,  should  use  the  word  republican  as  a  term  of  re- 

•  Tho  report  is  in  tlie  Lords'  Journals,  Dec.  20.  1689.  Hampden's 
examination  was  on  ttie  IStli  of  November. 

••  This,  I  thint,  is  clear  from  a  letter  of  Lady  Montague  to  Lady 
Russell,  dated  Dec.  23.  16S9,  three  days  after  the  Oommittee  of  Murder  bad 




CHAP,  proachi  When  the  storm  of  laughter  had  subsided,  several 
-  members  stood  up  to  vindicate  the  accused  statesmen.  Sey- 
mour declared  that,  much  as  he  disapproved  of  the  manner  in 
which  the  administration  had  lately  been  conducted,  he  could 
not  concur  in  the  vote  which  John  Hampden  had  proposed. 
"Look  where  you  will,"  he  said,  "to  Ireland,  to  Scotland,  to 
the  navy,  to  the  army,  you  will  find  abundant  proofs  of  mis- 
management. If  the  war  is  still  to  be  conducted  by  the  same 
hands,  we  can  expect  nothing  but  a  recurrence  of  the  same 
disasters.  But  I  am  not  prepared  to  proscribe  men  for  the  best 
thing  that  they  ever  did  in  their  lives,  to  proscribe  men  for 
attempting  to  avert  a  revolution  by  timely  mediation."  It  was 
justly  said  by  another  speaker  that  Halifax  and  Nottingham  had 
been  sent  to  the  Dutch  camp  because  they  possessed  the  con- 
fidence of  the  nation,  because  they  were  universally  known  to 
be  hostile  to  the  dispensing  power,  to  the  Popish  religion,  and 
to  the  French  ascendency.  It  was  at  length  resolved  that  the 
King  should  be  requested  in  general  terms  to  find  out  and  to 
remove  the  authors  of  the  late  miscarriages.*  A  committee 
was  appointed  to  prepare  an  Address.  John  Hampden  was 
chairman,  and  drew  up  a  representation  in  terms  so  bitter  that, 
when  it  was  reported  to  the  House,  his  own  father  expressed 
disapprobation,  and  one  member  exclaimed:  "This  an  address  1 
It  is  a  libel."  After  a  sharp  debate,  the  Address  was  recom- 
mitted, and  was  not  again  mentioned.** 

Indeed,  the  animosity  which  a  large  part  of  the  House  had 
felt  against  Halifax  was  beginning  to  abate.  It  was  known  that, 
though  he  had  not  yet  formally  delivered  up  the  Privy  Seal,  he 
had  ceased  to  be  a  confidential  adviser  of  the  Crown.  The 
power  which  he  had  enjoyed  during  the  first  months  of  the  reign 

•  Commons' Journals,  Dec.  14.  1689;  Grey's  Debates;  Boyer's  Life  of 

**  Commons'  Journals,  Dec.  21.;  Grey's  Debates;  Oldmixon. 

WILLIAM    ANU   MAlir.  181 

of  William  and  Mary  had  passed  to  the  more  daring,  more  un-  chap. 
scrupulous  and  more  practical  Caermarthen,  against  whose  in — j^j^ — 
fluence  Shrewsbury  contended  in  vain.  Personally  Shrewsbury 
stood  high  in  the  royal  favour:  but  he  was  a  leader  of  the 
Whigs,  and,  like  all  leaders  of  parties,  was  frequently  pushed 
forward  against  his  will  by  those  who  seemed  to  follow  him.  He 
was  himself  inclined  to  a  mild  and  moderate  policy:  but  he  had 
not  sufficient  firmness  to  withstand  the  clamorous  importunity 
^vith  which  such  politicians  as  John  Howe  and  John  Hampden 
demanded  vengeance  on  their  enemies.  His  advice  had  there- 
fore, at  this  time,  little  weight  with  his  master,  who  neither 
loved  the  Tories  nor  trusted  them,  but  who  was  fully  determined 
not  to  proscribe  them. 

Meanwhile  the  '^Miigs,  conscious  that  they  had  lately  sunk 
in  the  opinion  both  of  the  King  and  of  the  nation,  resolved  on 
making  a  bold  and  crafty  attempt  to  become  independent  of 
both.  A  perfect  account  of  that  attempt  cannot  be  constructed 
out  of  the  scanty  and  widely  dispersed  materials  which  have 
come  down  to  us.  Yet  the  story,  as  it  has  come  dovra  to  us,  is 
both  interesting  and  instructive. 

A  bill  for  restoring  the  rights  of  those  coi-porations  which  The  Cor- 
had  surrendered  their  charters  to  the  Crown  during  the  last  two  Bn"''"" 
reigns  had  been  brought  into  the  House  of  Commons,  had  been 
received  with  general  applause  by  men  of  all  parties,  had  been 
read  twice,  and  had  been  referred  to  a  select  committee,  of 
which  Somers  was  chairman.  On  the  second  of  January  Somers 
brought  up  the  report.  The  attendance  of  Tories  was  scanty: 
for,  as  no  important  discussion  was  expected,  many  country 
gentlemen  had  left  town,  and  were  keeping  a  merry  Christmas 
by  the  chimney  fires  of  their  manor  houses.  The  muster  of 
zealous  "N^Tiigs  was  strong.  As  soon  as  the  bill  had  been  re- 
ported, Sacheverell,  renowned  in  the  stormy  parliaments  of 
the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second  as  one  of  the  ablest  and  keenest 


182  HISTORY   or  ENGLANT1, 

CHAP,  of  the  Exclusionists ,  stood  up  and  moved  to  add  a  clause  pro- 
■  viding  that  every  municipal  functionary  who  had  in  any  manner 
been  a  party  to  the  surrendering  of  the  franchises  of  a  borough 
should  be  incapable  for  seven  years  of  holding  any  office  in  that 
borough.  The  constitution  of  almost  every  corporate  town  in 
England  had  been  rem.odelled  during  that  hot  fit  of  loyalty 
■which  followed  the  detection  of  the  Rye  House  Plot;  and,  in 
almost  every  corporate  town,  the  voice  of  the  Tories  had  been 
for  delivering  up  the  charter,  and  for  trusting  every  thing  to  the 
paternal  care  of  the  Sovereign.  The  effect  of  Sacheverell's 
clause,  therefore,  was  to  make  some  thousands  of  the  most 
opulent  and  highly  considered  men  in  the  kingdom  incapable, 
during  seven  years,  of  bearing  any  part  in  the  government  of 
Ihe  places  in  which  they  resided,  and  to  secure  to  the  Whig 
party,  during  seven  years,  an  overwhelming  influence  in 
borough  elections. 

The  minority  exclaimed  against  the  gross  injustice  of  pass- 
ing, rapidly  and  by  surprise,  at  a  season  when  London  was 
empty,  a  law  of  the  highest  importance,  a  law  which  retro- 
spectively inflicted  a  severe  penalty  on  many  hundreds  of  re- 
spectable gentlemen,  a  law  which  would  call  forth  the  strongest 
passions  in  every  town  from  Berwick  to  St.  Ives,  a  law  which 
must  have  a  serious  efi'ect  on  the  composition  of  the  House  itself. 
Common  decency  required  at  least  an  adjournment.  An  ad- 
journment was  moved:  but  the  motion  was  rejected  by  ahim- 
dred  and  twenty  seven  votes  to  eighty  nine.  The  question  was 
then  put  that  Sacheverell's  clause  should  stand  part  of  the  bill, 
and  was  carried  by  a  hundred  and  thirty  three  to  sixty  eight. 
Sir  Robert  Howard  immediately  moved  that  every  person  who, 
being  under  Sacheverell's  clause  disqualified  for  municipal 
office,  should  presume  to  take  any  such  office,  should  forfeit 
five  hundred  pounds,  and  should  be  for  life  incapable  of  holding 
any  public  employment  whatever.    The  Tories  did  not  venture 

WlLf.TAM   AXT)   MAKY.  183 

to  divide.*  The  rules  of  the  House  put  it  in  the  power  of  a  chap. 
minority  to  obstruct  the  progress  of  a  bill;  and  this  was  as — ~~ — 
suredly  one  of  the  very  rare  occasions  on  which  that  power 
would  have  been  with  great  propriety  exerted.  It  does  not 
appear  however  that  the  parliamentary  tacticians  of  that  age 
were  aware  of  the  extent  to  which  a  small  number  of 
members  can ,  witho\it  violating  any  form ,  retard  the  course  of 

It  was  immcdi-atcly  resolved  that  the  bill,  enlarged  by 
Sachevcrell's  and  Howard's  clauses,  should  be  ingi'ossed.  The 
most  vehement  Whigs  were  bent  en  finally  passing  it  within 
forty  eight  hours.  The  Lords,  indeed,  were  not  likely  to 
regard  it  very  favourably.  But  it  should  seem  that  some  de- 
sperate men  were  prepared  to  withhold  the  supplies  till  it 
should  pass,  nay,  even  to  tack  it  to  the  bill  of  supply,  and  thus 
to  place  the  Upper  House  under  the  necessity  of  either  consent- 
ing to  a  vast  proscription  of  the  Tories  or  refusing  to  the 
government  the  means  of  carrj'ing  on  the  war.**  There  were 
^Vhigs,  however,  honest  enough  to  wish  that  fair  play  should 
be  given  to  the  hostile  party,  and  prudent  enough  to  know  that 
an  advantage  obtained  by  violence  and  cimning  could  not  be 
permanent.  These  men  insisted  that  at  least  a  week  should  be 
suffered  to  elapse  before  the  third  reading,  and  carried  their 
point.  Their  less  scnipulous  associates  complained  bitterly 
that  the  good  cause  was  betrayed.  "What  new  laws  of  war  were 
these?  \ATiy  was  chivalrous  courtesy  to  be  shown  to  foes  who 
thought  no   stratagem  immoral,    and  who  had  never  given 

•  Commons'  Journals,  Jan.  3.  IG'J. 

••  Thus,  I  think,  must  bo  understood  some  remarkable  words  In  a 
letter  written  by  Willinm  to  Portlnnd,  on  the  day  after  Sachevcrell's  bold 
and  unexpected  move.  William  calculates  the  amount  of  the  supplies,  and 
then  says:  "3'ils  n'y  mcttent  dea  conditions  que  vous  savcz,  c'est  nne 
bonne  affaire :  mala  Ics  Wiggca  sont  si  glorleux  d'avoir  vaincu  qu'lls  cntre- 
prendront  tout." 



CHAP,  quarter?  And  what  had  been  done  that  was  not  in  strict  accor- 
'^*  ■  dance  with  the  law  of  Parliament?  That  law  knew  nothing  of 
short  notices  and  long  notices ,  of  thin  houses  and  full  houses. 
It  was  the  business  of  a  representative  of  the  people  to  be  in  his 
place.  If  he  chose  to  shoot  and  guzzle  at  his  country  seat  when 
important  business  was  under  consideration  at  Westminster, 
what  right  had  he  to  murmur  because  more  upright  and 
laborious  servants  of  th.?  public  passed,  in  his  absence,  a  bill 
which  appeared  to  them  necessary  to  the  public  safety?  As 
however  a  postponement  of  a  few  days  appeared  to  be  inevitable, 
those  who  had  intended  to  gain  the  victory  by  stealing  a  march 
now  disclaimed  that  intention.  They  solemnly  assured  the 
King,  who  could  not  help  showing  some  displeasure  at  their 
conduct,  and  who  felt  much  more  displeasure  than  he  showed, 
that  they  had  owed  nothing  to  surprise ,  and  that  they  were 
quite  certain  of  a  majority  in  the  fullest  house.  Sacheverell  ip 
said  to  have  declared  with  great  warmth  that  he  would  stake  his 
seat  on  the  issue,  and  that  if  he  found  himself  mistaken  he 
would  never  show  his  face  in  Parliament  again.  Indeed,  the 
general  opinion  at  first  was  that  the  Whigs  would  win  the  day. 
But  it  soon  became  clear  that  the  fight  would  be  a  hard  one. 
The  mails  had  earned  out  along  all  the  high  roads  the  tidings 
that,  on  the  second  of  January,  the  Commons  had  agreed  to  a 
retrospective  penal  law  against  the  whole  Tory  party,  and  that, 
on  the  tenth,  that  law  would  be  considered  for  the  last  time. 
The  whole  kingdom  was  moved  from  Northumberland  to  Corn- 
wall. A  hundred  knights  and  squires  left  their  halls  hung  with 
mistletoe  and  holly,  and  their  boards  groaning  with  brawn  and 
plum  porridge,  and  rode  up  post  to  town,  cursing  the  short 
days,  the  cold  weather,  the  miry  roads  and  the  villanous  Whigs. 
The  Whigs,  too,  brought  up  reinforcements,  but  not  to  the 
same  extent;  for  the  clauses  were  generally  unpopular,  and  not 
without  good  cause.    Assuredly  no  reasonable  man  of  any  party 



WILLIAM  AKD  MAllT.  185 

vrill  deny  that  the  Tories,  in  surrendering  to  the  CroA^Ti  all  the  chap, 
municipal  franchises  of  the  realm,  and,  with  those  franchises, - 
the  power  of  altering  the  constitution  of  the  House  of  Commons, 
committed  a  great  fault.  But  in  that  fault  the  nation  itself  had 
been  an  accomplice.  If  the  Mayors  and  Aldermen  whom  it  was 
now  proposed  to  punish  had,  when  the  tide  of  loyal  enthusiasm 
ran  high,  sturdily  refused  to  comply  with  the  wish  of  their 
Sovereign,  they  would  have  been  pointed  at  in  the  street  as 
Roundhead  knaves,  preached  at  by  the  Hector,  lampooned  in 
ballads,  and  probably  burned  in  effigy  before  their  own  doors. 
That  a  community  should  be  hurried  into  errors  alternately  by 
fear  of  tyranny  and  by  fear  of  anarchy  is  doubtless  a  great  evil. 
But  the  remedy  for  that  evil  is  not  to  punish  for  such  errors 
some  persons  who  have  merely  erred  with  the  rest,  and  who 
liave  since  repented  with  the  rest.  Nor  ought  it  to  have  been 
forgotten  that  the  offenders  against  whom  Sacheverell's  clause 
was  directed  had,  in  1688,  made  large  atonement  for  the  mis- 
conduct of  which  they  had  been  guilty  in  1 683.  They  had ,  as  a 
class,  stood  up  firmly  against  the  dispensing  power;  and  most 
of  them  had  actually  been  turned  out  of  their  municipal  offices 
by  James  for  refusing  to  support  his  policy.  It  is  not  strange 
therefore  that  the  attempt  to  inflict  on  all  these  men  without  ex- 
ception a  degrading  punishment  should  have  raised  such  a 
storm  of  public  indignation  as  many  ^Miig  members  of  parlia- 
ment were  unwilling  to  face. 

As  the  decisive  conflict  drew  near,  and  as  the  muster  of  the 
Tories  became  hourly  stronger  and  stronger,  the  uneasiness  of 
Sacheverell  and  of  his  confederates  increased.  They  found  that 
they  could  hardly  hope  for  a  complete  victory.  They  must  make 
some  concession.  They  must  propose  to  recommit  the  bill.  They 
must  declare  themselves  willing  to  consider  whether  any  dis- 
tinction could  be  made  between  the  chief  offenders  and  the  mul- 
titudes who  had  been  misled  by  evil  example.    But  as  the  spirit 



CHAP,  of  one  party  fell  the  spirit  of  the  other  rose.  The  Tories,  glowing 
with  resentment  which  was  but  too  just,  were  resolved  to  listen 
to  no  terms  of  compromise. 

The  tenth  of  January  came ;  and ,  before  the  late  daybreak 
of  that  season,  the  House  was  crowded.  More  than  a  hundred 
and  sixty  members  had  come  up  to  town  within  a  week.  From 
dawn  till  the  candles  had  burned  down  to  their  sockets  the  ranks 
kept  unbroken  order;  and  few  members  left  their  seats  except 
for  a  minute  to  take  a  crust  of  bread  or  a  glass  of  claret.  Mes- 
sengers were  in  waiting  to  carry  the  result  to  Kensington,  where 
William,  though  shaken  by  a  violent  cough,  sate  up  till  mid- 
night, anxiously  expecting  the  news,  and  writing  to  Portland, 
whom  he  had  sent  on  an  important  mission  to  the  Hague. 

The  only  remaining  account  of  the  debate  is  defective  and 
confused.  But  from  that  account  it  appears  that  the  excitement 
was  great.  Sharp  things  were  said.  One  young  Whig  member 
used  language  so  hot  that  he  was  in  danger  of  being  called  to 
the  bar.  Some  reflections  were  thrown  on  the  Speaker  for 
allowing  too  much  licence  to  his  own  fi-iends.  But  in  truth  it 
mattered  little  whether  he  called  transgressors  to  order  or  not. 
The  House  bad  long  been  quite  unmanageable;  and  veteran 
members  bitterly  regretted  the  old  gravity  of  debate  and  the 
old  authority  of  the  chair.*  That  Somers  disapproved  of  the 
violence  of  the  party  to  which  he  belonged  may  be  inferred, 
both  from  the  whole  course  of  his  public  life,  and  from  the  very 
significant  fact  that,  though  he  had  charge  of  the  Corporation 
Bill,  he  did  not  move  the  penal  clauses,  but  left  that  ungracious 
office  to  men  more  impetuous  and  less  sagacious  than  him- 
self.   He  did  not  however  abandon  his  allies  in  this  emergency, 

•  "The  authority  of  the  chair,  the  awe  and  reverence  to  order,  and 
the  due  method  of  debates  being  Irrecoverably  lost  by  the  disorder  and 
tumultuouaness  of  the  House."  —  Sir  J.  Trevor  to  the  King,  Appendix  to 
Dalrymple's  Memoirs,  Part  il>  Book  4. 

WILT.T.VM   AND   MART.  187 

but  spoke  for  them,  and  tried  to  make  the  best  of  a  very  bad  ^■^^^- 
case.  The  House  divided  several  times.  On  the  first  division  "Tn'soT" 
a  hundred  and  seventy  four  voted  with  Sacheverell,  a  hundred 
and  seventy  nine  against  him.  Still  the  battle  was  stubbornly 
kept  up;  but  the  majority  increased  from  five  to  ten,  from  ten 
to  twelve,  and  from  twelve  to  eighteen.  ITien  at  length,  after 
a  stormy  sitting  of  fourteen  hours,  the  MTiigs  yielded.  It  was 
near  midnight  when ,  to  the  unspeakable  joy  and  triumph  of  the 
Tories,  the  clerk  tore  away  from  the  parchment  on  which  the 
bill  had  been  engrossed  the  odious  clauses  of  Sacheverell  and 

Emboldened  by  this  great  victory,  the  Tories  made  an  at- J'_^<"{'^^^*|'^_ 
tempt  to  push  forward  the  Indemnity  Bill  which  had  lain  many  demuny 
weeks  neglected  on  the  table.**   But  the  Whigs,  notwithstand- 

•  Commons'  Journals,  Jan.  10.  I6|J.  I  have  done  my  best  to  frame  an 
account  of  this  contest  out  of  very  defective  materials.  Burnet's  narrative 
contains  more  blunders  than  lines.  He  evidently  trusted  to  his  memory, 
ond  was  completely  deceived  by  It.  My  chief  authorities  are  the  Journals; 
Grey's  Debates;  William's  Letters  to  Portland;  the  Despatches  of  Van 
Citters;  a  Letter  concerning  the  Disabling  Clauses,  lately  offered  to  the 
House  of  Commons,  for  regulating  Corporations,  1G90;  The  True  Friends 
to  Corporations  vindicated,  in  an  answer  to  a  letter  concerning  the  Dis- 
abling Clauses,  1G90;  and  Some  Queries  concerning  the  Election  of  Mem- 
bers for  the  ensuing  Parliament,  1690.  To  this  last  pamphlet  is  appended 
a  list  of  those  who  voted  for  the  .Sacheverell  Clause.  See  also  Clarendon's 
Diary,  Jan.  10.  16;| ,  and  the  Third  Part  of  the  Caveat  against  the  Whigs, 
1712.  William's  Letter  of  the  10th  of  January  ends  thus.  The  news  of  the 
first  division  only  had  reached  Kensington.  "II  est  k  present  onze  cures 
de  nuit,  et  k  dix  cures  la  Chambre  Basse  estoit  encore  ensemble.  Ainsi  Je 
ne  vous  puis  escrire  par  cctto  ordinaire  Tissue  de  I'afTalre.  Lea  previos 
questions  les  Tories  I'ont  emportd  de  cinq  vols.  Ainsl  vous  pouvez  voir 
que  la  chose  est  bien  disputtfe.  J'ay  si  grand  somiel,  et  mon  toux  m'in- 
comode   que  Je   ne  vous  en   gaurez  dire  d'avantage.     Jusquos  k  mourir  i 


On  the  same  night  Van  Cllters  wrote  to  the  States  General.  The 
debate,  he  said,  had  been  very  sharp.  The  design  of  the  Wlilgs,  whom  ho 
calls  the  Presbyterians,  had  been  nothing  less  than  to  exclude  their  op. 
ponents  from  all  ofhces,  and  to  obtain  for  themselves  the  exclusive  posscs- 
slon  of  power. 

••  Commoni' Jonrnals,  Jan.  11.  16|J. 

188  HisxoBr  OS  England. 

CHAP,  "ing  their  recent  defeat,  were  Btill  the  majority  of  the  House; 
-^ — and  many  members,  who  had  shrunk  from  the  unpopularity 
which  they  would  have  incurred  by  supporting  the  Sacheverell 
clause  and  the  Howard  clause,  were  perfectly  willing  to  assist 
in  retarding  the  general  pardon.  They  still  propounded  their 
favourite  dilemma.  How,  they  asked,  was  it  possible  to  defend 
this  project  of  amnesty  without  condemning  the  Revolution? 
Could  it  be  contended  that  crimes  which  hadbeen  grave  enough  to 
justify  resistance  had  not  been  grave  enough  to  deserve  punish- 
ment? And,  if  those  crimes  were  of  such  magnitude  that  they 
could  justly  be  visited  on  the  Sovereign  whom  the  Constitution 
had  exempted  from  responsibiUty,  on  what  principle  was  im- 
munity to  be  granted  to  his  advisers  and  tools,  who  were  beyond 
all  doubt  responsible?  One  facetious  member  put  this  argument 
in  a  singular  form.  He  contrived  to  place  in  the  Speaker's  chair 
a  paper  which,  when  examined,  appeared  to  be  a  Bill  of  Indem- 
nity for  King  James,  with  a  sneering  preamble  about  the 
mercy  which  had,  since  the  Revolution,  been  extended  to  more 
heinous  offenders ,  and  about  the  indulgence  due  to  a  King, 
who ,  in  oppressing  his  people ,  had  only  acted  after  the  fashion 
of  all  Kings.* 

On  the  same  day  on  which  this  mock  Bill  of  Indemnity 
disturbed  the  gravity  of  the  Commons,  it  was  moved  that  the 
House  should  go  into  Committee  on  the  real  Bill.  The  Whigs 
threw  the  motion  out  by  a  hundred  and  ninety  three  votes  to  a 
hundred  and  fifty  six.  They  then  proceeded  to  resolve  that  a 
bill  of  pains  and  penalties  against  delinquents  should  be  forth- 
with brought  in,  and  engrafted  on  the  Bill  of  Indemnity.** 
Cane  of  A  fcw  hours  later  a  vote  passed  that  showed  more  clearly 

sawjer.    than  any  thing  that  had  yet  taken  place  how  little  chance  there 

*  Narcissus  Luttrell's  Diary    Jan.  16.  1690;  Van  Cittera  to  the  States 
General,  Jan.  f|. 
»*  Commons'   Journala,  Jan.  16.  IG^J. 

^\-TLI.IAM  AND   MART.  189 

•was  that  llie  nuMic  mind  would  he  speedily  quieted  by  an  am-  chap. 
nesty.  Few  persons  stood  higher  in  the  estimation  of  the  Tory  — Tj,^- 
party  than  Sir  Robert  Sawyer.  He  was  a  man  of  ample  fortune 
and  aristocratical  connections,  of  orthodox  opinions  and  re- 
gular life,  an  able  and  experienced  lawjcr,  a  well  read  scholar, 
and,  in  spite  of  a  little  pomposity,  a  good  speaker.  He  had 
been  Attorney  General  at  the  time  of  the  detection  of  the  Rye 
House  Plot:  he  had  been  employed  for  the  Crown  in  the  prose- 
cutions which  followed;  and  he  had  conducted  those  prosecu- 
tions with  an  eagerness  which  Mould,  in  our  time,  be  called 
cruelty  by  all  parties,  but  which,  in  his  own  time,  and  to  his 
own  party,  seemed  to  be  merely  laudable  zeal.  His  friends 
indeed  asserted  that  he  was  conscientious  even  to  scrupulosity 
in  matters  of  life  and  death:*  but  this  is  an  eulogy  which 
persons  who  bring  the  feelings  of  the  nineteenth  centurj'  to  the 
study  of  the  State  Trials  of  the  seventeenth  century  will  have 
some  difficulty  in  understanding.  The  best  excuse  which  can 
be  made  for  this  part  of  his  life  is  that  the  stain  of  innocent 
blood  was  common  to  him  vnth.  almost  all  the  eminent  piiblic 
men  of  those  evil  days.  MTien  we  blame  him  for  prosecu- 
ting Russell,  we  must  not  forget  that  Russell  had  prosecuted 

Great  as  Sawyer's  offences  were,  he  had  made  great  atone- 
ment for  them.  He  had  stood  up  manfully  against  Popery  and 
despotism:  he  had,  in  the  very  presence  chamber,  positively 
refused  to  draw  warrants  in  contravention  of  Acts  of  Parlia- 
ment: he  had  resigned  his  lucrative  office  rather  than  appear  in 
Westminster  Hall  as  the  champion  of  the  dispensing  power: 
he  had  been  the  leading  counsel  for  the  seven  Bishops;  and  he 
had,  on  the  day  of  their  trial,  done  his  duty  ably,  honestly, 
and  fearlessly.  He  was  therefore  a  favourite  with  High  Church- 
men, and  might  be  thought  to  have  fairly  earned  his  pardon 

•  Kogor  North's  Life  of  Ouildfonl. 


190  HISIOKX  Oi?  ENQIA-KI). 

CHAP,  from  the  "WTiigs.  But  the  "VVTiigs  were  not  in  a  pardoning  mood; 
■    •  and  Sa>vj'er  was  now  called  to  account  for  his  conduct  in  the 
case  of  Sir  Thomas  Armstrong. 

If  Armstrong  was  not  belied,  he  was  deep  in  the  worst 
secrets  of  the  Rye  House  Plot,  and  was  one  of  those  who 
undertook  to  slay  the  two  royal  brothers.  When  the  conspiracy 
was  discovered,  he  lied  to  the  Continent  and  was  outlawed. 
The  magistrates  of  Leyden  were  induced  by  a  bribe  to  deliver 
him  up.  He  was  hurried  on  board  of  an  English  ship,  carried 
to  London,  and  brought  before  the  King's  Bench.  Sawyer 
moved  the  Court  to  award  execution  on  the  outlawry.  Arm- 
strong represented  that  a  year  had  not  yet  elapsed  since  he  had 
been  outlawed,  and  that,  by  an  Act  passed  in  the  reign  of 
Edward  the  Sixth,  an  outlaw  who  yielded  himself  within  the 
year  was  entitled  to  plead  Not  Guilty,  and  to  put  himself  on  his 
country.  To  this  it. was  answered  that  Annstrong  had  not 
yielded  himself,  that  he  had  been  dragged  to  the  bar  a  pri- 
soner, and  that  he  had  no  right  to  claim  a  privilege  which  was 
evidently  meant  to  be  given  only  to  persons  who  voluntarily 
rendered  themselves  up  to  public  justice.  Jeffreys  and  the 
other  judges  unanimously  overruled  Armstrong's  objection,  and 
granted  the  award  of  execution.  Then  followed  one  of  the 
most  terrible  of  the  many  terrible  scenes  which,  in  those  times, 
disgraced  our  Courts.  The  daughter  of  the  unhappy  man  was 
at  his  side.  "My  Lord,"  she  cried  out,  "you  will  not  murder 
my  father.  This  is  murdering  a  man."  "How  now?"  roared 
the  Chief  Justice.  "Who  is  this  woman?  Take  her.  Marshal. 
Take  her  away."  She  was  forced  out,  crying  as  she  went, 
"  God  Almighty's  judgments  light  on  you  I "  "  God  Almighty's 
judgment,"  said  Jeffreys,  "  will  light  on  traitors.  Thank  God, 
1  am  clamour  proof."  "V^Tien  she  was  gone,  her  father  again 
insisted  on  what  he  conceived  to  be  his  right.  "I  ask,"  he  said, 
"only  the  benefit  of  the  law."    "And,  by  the  grace  of  God, 


you  shall  have  it,"  said  the  judge.     "Mr.  Sheriff,  see  that  exe-    chap. 
cution  be  done  on  Friday  next.     There  is  the  benefit  of  tlie  law  -7;^,^ 
for  you."     On  the  following  Friday,  Armstrong  was  hanged, 
drawn  and  quartered;    and  his  head  was  placed  over  "West- 
minster Hall.* 

The  insolence  and  cruelty  of  Jeffreys  excite,  even  at  the 
distance  of  so  many  years,  an  indignation  which  makes  it 
dificult  to  be  just  to  him.  Yet  a  perfectly  dispassionate  in- 
quirer may  perhaps  think  it  by  no  means  clear  that  the  award  of 
execution  was  illegal.  There  was  no  precedent;  and  the  words 
of  the  Act  of  Edward  the  Sixth  may ,  without  any  straining,  be 
construed  as  the  Court  construed  them.  Indeed,  had  the 
penalty  been  only  fine  or  imprisonment,  nobody  would  have 
seen  any  thing  reprehensible  in  the  proceeding.  But  to  send  a 
man  to  the  gallows  as  a  traitor,  without  confronting  him  with 
his  accusers,  without  hearing  his  defence,  solely  because  a 
timidity  which  is  perfectly  compatible  with  innocence  has  im- 
pelled him  to  hide  himself,  is  surely  a  violation,  if  not  of  any 
written  law,  yet  of  those  great  principles  to  which  all  laws 
ought  to  conform.  The  case  was  brought  before  the  House  of 
Commons.  The  orphan  daughter  of  Armstrong  came  to  the 
bar  to  demand  vengeance;  and  a  warm  debate  followed. 
Sawyer  was  fiercely  attacked  and  strenuously  defended.  The 
Tories  declared  that  he  appeared  to  them  to  have  done  only 
what,  as  counsel  for  the  Crown,  he  was  bound  to  do,  and  to 
have  discharged  his  duty  to  God,  to  the  King,  and  to  the 
prisoner.  If  the  award  was  legal,  nobody  was  to  blame;  and, 
if  the  award  was  illegal,  the  blame  lay,  not  with  the  Attorney 
General,  but  with  the  Judges.  There  would  be  an  end  of  all 
liberty  of  speech  at  the  bar,  if  an  advocate  was  to  be  punished 
for  making  a  strictly  regular  application  to  a  Court,  and  for 
arguing  that  certain  words  in  a  statute  were  to  be  understood 

*  See  the  accoant  of  the  proceedings  in  the  collection  of  State  Triolj. 



CHAP,  in  a  certain  sense.  The  Whigs  called  Sa^\7er  murderer,  blood- 
■"^^  hound ,  hangman.  If  the  liberty  of  speech  claimed  by  advo- 
cates meant  the  liberty  of  haranguing  men  to  death,  it  was 
high  time  that  the  nation  should  rise  up  and  extenninate  the 
whole  race  of  lawyers.  "Things  will  never  be  well  done,"  said 
one  orator,  "till  some  of  that  profession  be  made  examples." 
"No  crime  to  demand  execution  1"  exclaimed  John  Hampden. 
"We  shall  be  told  next  that  it  was  no  crime  in  the  Jews  to  cry 
out  'Crucify  him.'"  A  wise  and  just  man  would  probably  have 
been  of  opinion  that  this  was  not  a  case  for  severity.  Sawj'er's 
conduct  might  have  been,  to  a  certain  extent,  culpable:  but, 
if  an  Act  of  Indemnity  was  to  be  passed  at  all,  it  was  to  be 
passed  for  the  benefit  of  persons  whose  conduct  had  been  cul- 
pable. The  question  was  not  whether  he  was  guiltless,  but 
whether  his  guilt  was  of  so  peculiarly  black  a  dye  that  he  ought, 
notwithstanding  all  his  sacrifices  and  services,  to  be  excluded 
by  name  from  the  mercy  which  was  to  be  granted  to  many 
thousands  of  offenders.  This  question  calm  and  impartial 
judges  would  probably  have  decided  in  his  favour.  It  was, 
however,  resolved  that  he  should  be  excepted  from  the  In- 
demnity, and  expelled  from  the  House.* 

On  the  morrow  the  Bill  of  Indemnity,  now  transformed  into 
a  Hill  of  Pains  and  Penalties ,  was  again  discussed.  The  Whigs 
consented  to  refer  it  to  a  Committee  of  the  whole  House,  but 
proposed  to  instruct  the  Committee  to  begin  its  labours  by 
making  out  a  list  of  the  offenders  who  were  to  be  proscribed. 
The  Tories  moved  the  previous  question.  The  House  divided ; 
and  the  Whigs  carried  their  point  by  a  hundred  and  ninety 
votes  to  a  hundred  and  seventy  three.  ** 

•  Commons'  Journals,  Jan.  20.  ICJJ;    Grey's  Debates,  Jan.  18.  and  20. 

**  Commons'  Journals,  Jan.  21.  IRJJ.     On  the  same  day  William  wrots 

tlius   from  Kensington  to   Portland:   "Cost   aujourd'hui  le   grand  Jour  ^ 

l'(<guard  du  Bill  of  Indemnity.     Selon  tout  ce  que  je  puis  aprendre,  il  y  anr« 

beaacoup  de  chaleur,  et  rien  determiner;  ct  de  la  manifere  que  la  chose  est 


The  King  watched  these  events  with  painful  anxiety.    He    cnxp. 

was  weary  of  his  crown.  He  had  tried  to  do  justice  to  both  the  —j^, — 
contending  parties;  but  justice  would  satisfy  neither.  The  The  King 
Tories  hated  him  for  protecting  the  Dissenters.  The  ^Vhigs  ToTe^ure 
hated  him  for  protecting  the  Tories.  The  amnesty  seemed  to  [^n"."'" 
be  more  remote  than  when,  ten  months  before,  he  first  recom- 
mended it  from  the  throne.  The  last  campaign  in  Ireland  had 
been  disastrous.  It  might  well  be  that  the  next  campaign  would 
be  more  disastrous  still.  The  malpractices,  which  had  done 
more  than  the  exhalations  of  the  marshes  of  Dundalk  to  destroy 
the  efficiency  of  the  English  troops,  were  likely  to  be  as 
monstrous  as  ever.  Every  part  of  the  administration  was 
thoroughly  disorganized;  and  the  people  were  surprised  and 
angr)'  because  a  foreigner,  newly  come  among  them,  imper- 
fectly acquainted  with  them ,  and  constantly  thwarted  by  them, 
had  not,  in  a  year,  put  the  whole  machine  of  government  to 
rights.  Most  of  his  ministers,  instead  of  assisting  him,  were 
trjing  to  get  up  addresses  and  impeachments  against  each 
other.  Yet  if  he  employed  his  own  countrj-men,  on  whose 
fidelity  and  attachment  he  could  rely ,  a  general  crj'  of  rage  was 
set  up  by  all  the  English  factions.  The  knavery  of  the  English 
Commissariat  had  destroj-ed  an  army:  yet  a  rumour  that  he 
intended  to  employ  an  able,  experienced,  and  trusty  Commis- 
sary from  Hc41and  had  excited  general  discontent.  The  King 
felt  that  he  could  not,  while  thus  situated,  render  any  service 
to  that  great  cause  to  which  his  whole  soul  was  devoted.  Al- 
ready the  glory  which  he  had  won  by  conducting  to  a  successful 
issue  the  most  important  enterprise  of  that  age  was  becoming 
dim.     Even  his  friends  had  begun  to  doubt  whether  he  really 

entoarrd,  11  n'y  a  point  d'aparcnce  quo  cette  affaire  viene  h  aucune  con- 
clusion. Et  ainsi  11  se  pouroit  que  la  cession  fust  fort  eourte;  n'ayant  plus 
(Targent  &  csp^rer;  ct  lea  csprits  s'aigrissent  Tun  centre  I'liutre  Ue  plus  en 
pins."  Three  days  later  Van  Citters  Informed  the  States  General  that  th« 
excitement  about  the  Bill  of  Indemnity  was  extreme. 

Jjofoulay,  llislortj.    V,  ^^ 


CHAP,  possessed  all  that  sagacity  and  energy  which  had  a  few  months 
■    ■  before  extorted  the  unwilling  admiration  of  his  enemies.    But 


he  would  endure  his  splendid  slavery  no  longer.  He  would 
return  to  his  native  country.  He  would  content  himself 
with  being  the  first  citizen  of  a  commonwealth  to  which 
the  name  of  Orange  was  dear.  As  such,  he  might  still  be 
foremost  among  those  who  were  banded  together  in  defence 
of  the  liberties  of  Europe.  As  for  the  tiurbulent  and  ungrateful 
islanders,  who  detested  him  because  he  would  not  let  them  tear 
each  other  in  pieces,  Mary  must  try  what  she  could  do  with 
them.  She  was  born  on  their  soil.  She  spoke  their  language. 
She  did  not  dislike  some  parts  of  their  Liturgy,  which  they 
fancied  to  be  essential ,  and  which  to  him  seemed  at  best  harm- 
less. If  she  had  little  knowledge  of  politics  and  war,  she  had 
what  might  be  more  useful,  feminine  grace  and  tact,  a  sweet 
temper,  a  smile  and  a  kind  word  for  every  body.  She  might 
be  able  to  compose  the  disputes  which  distracted  the  State  and 
the  Church.  Holland,  under  his  government,  and  England  under 
hers,  might  act  cordially  together  against  the  common  enemy. 
H«  is  in-  He  secretly  ordered  preparations  to  be  made  for  his  voyage, 
change  Having  done  this,  he  called  together  a  few  of  his  chief  coun- 
tentiod.  sellers,  and  told  them  his  pui-pose.  A  squadron,  he  said,  was 
ready  to  convey  him  to  his  country.  He  had  done  with  them. 
He  hoped  that  the  Queen  would  be  more  successful.  The 
ministers  were  thunderstruck.  For  once  all  quarrels  were 
suspended.  The  Tory  Caermarthen  on  one  side,  the  Whig 
Shrewsbury  on  the  other,  expostulated  and  implored  with  a 
pathetic  vehemence  rare  in  the  conferences  of  statesmen.  Many 
tears  were  shed.  At  length  the  King  was  induced  to  give  up, 
at  least  for  the  present,  his  design  of  abdicating  the  govern- 
ment. But  he  announced  another  design  which  he  was  fully 
determined  not  to  give  up.  Since  he  was  still  to  remain  at 
the  head  of  the  English  administration,  he  would  go  himself 

WrUJAJI   AND   MABT.  195 

to  Ireland.     He  would  try  whether  the  whole  royal  authority,    crap. 


strenuously  exerted  on  the  spot  where  the  fate  of  the  empire  ~ff^j — 
was  to  be  decided,  would  suffice  to  prevent  peculation  and  to 
maintain  discipline.* 

That  he  had  seriously  meditated  a  retreat  to  Holland  lone^iiB 

,  ,  °  Whigs 

continued  to  be  a  secret,  not  only  to  the  multitude,  but  even  oppose 
to  the  Queen.**  That  he  had  resolved  to  take  the  command  lo^r8l"* 
of  his  army  in  Ireland  was  soon  rumoured  all  over  London. 
It  was  known  that  his  camp  furniture  was  making,  and  that 
Sir  Christopher  Wren  was  busied  in  constructing  a  house  of 
wood  which  was  to  travel  about,  packed  in  two  waggons,  and 
to  be  set  up  wherever  His  Majesty  might  fix  his  quarters.*** 
The  AVhigs  raised  a  violent  outcry  against  the  whole  scheme. 
Not  knowing,  or  afTecting  not  to  know,  that  it  had  been  formed 
by  "William  and  by  William  alone,  and  that  none  of  his  ministers 
had  dared  to  advise  him  to  encounter  the  Irish  swords  and  the 
Irish  atmosphere,  the  whole  party  confidently  affirmed  that  it 
had  been  suggested  by  some  traitor  in  the  cabinet,  by  some 
Tory  who  hated  the  Revolution  and  all  that  had  sprung  from  the 
Revolution.  Would  any  true  friend  have  advised  His  Majesty, 
infirm  in  health  as  he  was,  to  expose  himself,  not  only  to  the 
dangers  of  war,  but  to  the  malignity  of  a  climate  which  had 
recently  been  fatal  to  thousands  of  men  much  stronger  than 
himself?  In  private  the  King  sneered  bitterly  at  this  anxiety 
for  his  safety.  It  was  merely,  in  his  judgment,  the  anxiety 
which  a  hard  master  feels  lest  his  slaves  should  become  unfit 
for  their  drudgerj-.  The  Whigs,  he  wrote  to  Portland,  were 
afraid  to  lose  their  tool  before  they  had  done  their  work. 
"As  to  their  friendship,"    he  added,    "you  know  what  it  is 

•  Burnet,  II.  39. ;  MS.  Memoir  written  by  the  first  Lord  Lonsdale  In  the 
Mackintosh  Papers. 
••  Burnet,  11.  40. 
•••  Narcissus  Luttrell's  Diary,  January  and  February. 



CHAP,   worth."    His  resolution,  he  told  his  friend,  was  unalterably 


— j^^^ — fixed.  Every  thing  was  at  stake;  and  go  he  must,  even  though 
the  Pai'liament  should  present  an  address  imploring  him  to 
stay.  * 

He  pro-         He  soon  learned  that  such  an  address  would  be  immediately 

rogues  •' 

the  Par-  moved  in  both  Houses  and  supported  by  the  whole  strength  of 
the  Whig  party.  This  intelligence  satisfied  him  that  it  was  time 
to  take  a  decisive  step.  He  would  not  discard  the  "VVhigs:  but 
he  would  give  them  a  lesson  of  which  they  stood  much  in  need. 
He  would  break  the  chain  in  which  they  imagined  that  they  had 
him  fast.  He  would  not  let  them  have  the  exclusive  possession 
of  power.  He  would  not  let  them  persecute  the  vanquished 
party.  In  their  despite,  he  would  grant  an  amnesty  to  his 
people.  In  their  despite,  he  would  take  the  command  of  his 
army  in  Ireland.  He  arranged  his  plan  with  characteristic 
prudence,  firmness,  and  secresy.  A  single  EngHshman  it  was 
necessary  to  trust:  for  William  was  not  sufficiently  master  of 
our  language  to  address  the  Houses  from  the  throne  in  his  own 
words;  and,  on  very  important  occasions,  his  practice  was 
to  write  his  speech  in  French,  and  to  employ  a  translator. 
It  is  certain  that  to  one  person,  and  to  one  only,  the  King 

•  William  to  Portland,  Jan.  ig.  1690.  "Les  Wiges  ont  peur  de  me 
perdre  trop  tost,  avant  qn'ila  n'ayent  fait  avec  moy  ce  qii'ils  veulent:  car, 
pour  leur  amiti^,  vous  savez  ce  qu'il  y  a  Ji  compter  la  dessus  en  ce  pays 

Jan.  J}.  "Me  voili  le  pins  embarass^  du  monde,  ne  sacliant  quel  parti 
prendre,  estant  toujours  pcrsuadtf  que,  sans  que  J'aille  en  Irlande,  Ton  n'y 
faira  rien  qui  vaille.  Pour  avoir  da  conseil  en  cette  affaire,  Je  n'en  ay  point 
k  attendre,  personne  n'ausant  dire  ses  sentimens.  Et  Ton  commence  ddji  k 
dire  ouvertement  que  ce  sont  dea  traitres  qui  m'ont  conseilM  de  prendre 
cette  resolution." 

Jan.  |}.  "  Je  n'ay  encore  rien  dit,"  —  he  means  to  the  Parliament,  — 
"  de  mon  voyage  pour  I'lrlande.  Et  Je  ne  suis  point  encore  determine  si  J'en 
parlerez:  mais  Je  crains  quo  nonobstant  J'aurez  une  adresse  pour  n'y  point 
aller;  ce  qui  m'embarassera  beancoup,  puis  que  c'est  une  n^cessitd  absolne 
que  j'y  aille." 


confided  the  momentous  resolution  which  he  had  tukeu ;  and  it    (  hap. 
can  hardly  be  doubted  that  this  person  was  Caeniiarthen. 


On  the  twenty  seventh  of  Januuiy,  Black  Hod  knocked  at  the 
door  of  the  Commons.  The  Speaker  and  the  members  repaired 
to  the  House  of  Lords.  The  King  was  on  llie  throne.  He  gave 
his  assent  to  the  Supply  Bill,  thanked  the  Houses  for  it, 
announced  his  intention  of  going  to  Ireland,  and  prorogued 
the  Parhament.  None  could  doubt  that  a  dissolution  would 
speedily  follow.  As  the  concludhig  words,  "I  have  thought  it 
convenient  now  to  put  an  end  to  this  session,"  were  uttered,  the 
Tories,  both  above  and  below  the  bar,  broke  forth  into  a  shout 
of  joy.  The  King  meanwhile  surveyed  his  audience  from  the 
throne  with  that  bright  eagle  eye  which  nothing  escaped.  He 
might  be  pardoned  if  he  felt  some  little  vindictive  pleasure  in 
annoying  those  who  had  cruelly  annoyed  him.  "I  saw,"  he 
^VTote  to  Portland  the  next  day,  "  faces  an  ell  long.  I  saw  some 
of  those  men  change  colour  with  vexation  twenty  times  while 
I  was  speaking."* 

A  few  hours  after  the  prorogation,  a  hundred  and  fifty  Tory  Joy  of  the 
members  of  Parliament  had  a  parting  dinner  together  at  the 
Apollo  Tavern  in  Fleet  Street,  before  they  set  out  for  their 
counties.  They  were  in  better  temper  with  William  than  they 
had  been  since  his  father  in  law  had  been  turned  out  of  White- 
hall. They  had  scarcely  recovered  from  the  joj'ful  surprise  with 
which  they  had  heard  it  announced  from  the  throne  that  the 

•  William  to  Portland,  J"'      '  1690;  Van  Citters  to   the  States  Ge- 

r CD.     7. 

ncial,  same  date;  Evelyn's  Diary;  Lords'  Journals,  Jan.  27.  I  will  quote 
William's  own  words.  "  Vous  vairez  mon  harangue  imprim^e:  ainsi  jo  no 
V0U3  en  direz  rien.  Et  pour  les  raisoiis  qui  m'y  ontoblig^,  je  les  re- 
servercz  5i  vous  los  dire  jiisqucs  h  voslre  retour.  II  semblo  que  les  Toria 
en  sont  bien  also,  niais  point  les  Wipgs.  lis  estoicnt  tous  fort  surpris 
quand  Jo  leur  parlois,  n'ayant  communique  mon  dessin  qn'k  une  seule 
personne.  Je  vis  des  visages  long  commo  un  auno,  changd  do  coulcur 
vingt  fois  pendant  que  Je  parlois.  Tous  ces  particiilnrifds  Jusquos  h  vostre 
heureux  retour." 


CHAP,  session  was  at  an  end.  The  recollection  of  their  danger  and  the 
-j-g^j —  sense  of  their  deliverance  were  still  fresh.  They  talked  of  re- 
pairing to  Court  in  a  body  to  testify  their  gratitude:  but  they 
were  induced  to  forego  their  intention;  and  not  without  cause: 
for  a  great  crowd  of  squires  after  a  revel,  at  which  doubtless 
neither  Octobernor  claret  had  been  spared,  might  have  caused 
some  inconvenience  in  the  presence  chamber.  Sir  John  Low- 
ther,  who  in  wealth  and  influence  was  inferior  to  no  country 
gentleman  of  that  age,  was  deputed  to  carry  the  thanks  of  the 
assembly  to  the  palace.  He  spoke,  he  told  the  King,  the  sense 
of  a  great  body  of  honest  gentlemen.  They  begged  His  Majesty 
to  be  assured  that  they  would  in  their  counties  do  their  best  to 
serve  him;  and  they  cordially  wished  him  a  safe  voyage  to  Ire- 
land, a  complete  victory,  a  speedy  return,  and  a  long  and 
happy  reign.  During  the  following  week,  many,  who  had 
never  shown  their  faces  in  the  circle  at  Saint  James's  since  the 
Ilevolution,  went  to  kiss  the  King's  hand.  So  warmly  indeed 
did  those  who  had  hitherto  been  regarded  as  half  Jacobites 
express  their  approbation  of  the  policy  of  the  government  that 
the  thoroughgoing  Jacobites  were  much  disgusted,  and  com- 
plained bitterly  of  the  strange  blindness  which  seemed  to  have 
come  on  the  sons  of  the  Church  of  England.* 

All  the  acts  of  William,  at  this  time,  indicated  his  deter- 
mination to  restrain,  steadily  though  gently,  the  violence  of 
the  Whigs,  and  to  conciliate,  if  possible,  the  good  will  of  the 
Tories.  Several  persons  whom  the  Commons  had  thrown  into 
prison  for  treason  were  set  at  liberty  on  bail.**  The  prelates 
who  held  that  their  allegiance  was  still  due  to  James  were 
treated  with  a  tenderness  rare  in  the  history  of  revolutions. 

•  Evelyn's  Diary;  Clarendon's  Diary,  Feb.  9.  1690;  Van  Cittero  to  tbe 
General,  -.    "  '„■';  Lonsda! 

leb.  10. 

Narcissus  Lnttrell's  Diary. 

States  General,     *  "  '  ■';  Lonsdale  M3.  quoted  by  Dalrymple 

WrLUAM   AND   MAllY.  199 

Within  a  week  after  the  prorogation,  the  first  of  February  came,  chap. 
the  day  on  which  those  ecclesiastics  who  refused  to  take  the  —[^ — 
oath  were  to  be  finally  deprived.  Several  of  the  suspended 
clergy,  after  holding  out  till  the  last  moment,  swore  just  in 
time  to  save  themselves  from  beggary.  But  the  Primate  and 
five  of  his  suffragans  were  still  inflexible.  They  consequently 
forfeited  their  bishoprics;  but  Bancroft  was  informed  that  the 
King  had  not  yet  relinquished  the  hope  of  being  able  to  make 
some  arrangement  which  might  avert  the  necessity  of  appointing 
successors,  and  that  the  nonjuring  prelates  might  continue  for 
the  present  to  reside  in  their  palaces.  Their  receivers  were  ap- 
pointed receivers  for  the  Crown,  and  continued  to  collect  the 
revenues  of  the  vacant  sees.*  Similar  indulgence  was  shown  to 
some  divines  of  lower  rank.  Sherlock,  in  particular,  continued, 
after  his  deprivation ,  to  live  unmolested  in  his  official  mansion 
close  to  the  Temple  Church. 

And  now  appeared  a  proclamation  dissolving  the  Parliament.  dissoIu- 
The  writs  for  a  general  election  went  out;  and  soon  every  part  general 
of  the  kingdom  was  in  a  ferment.     Van  Citters,  M-ho  had  resided  •'""°°' 
in  England  during  many  eventful  years,  declared  that  he  had 
never  seen  London  more  violently  agitated.**    The  excitement 
was  kept  up  by  compositions  of  all  sorts,    from  sermons  with 
sixteen  heads  down  to  jingling  street  ballads.    Lists  of  divisions 
were,  for  the  first  time  in  our  history,   printed  and  dispersed 
for  the  information  of  constituent  bodies.     Two  of  these  lists 
may  still  be  seen  in  old  libraries.     One  of  the  two,  circulated 
by  the  "NATiigs,  contained  the  names  of  those  Tories  who  had 
voted  against  declaring  the  throne  vacant.    The   other,    cir- 
culated by  the  Tories,  contained  the  names  of  those  Whigs  who 
had  supported  the  Sacheverell  clause. 

It  soon  became  clear  that  public  feeling  had  undergone  a 

•  Clarendon's  Diary,  Feb.  11.  1690. 
••  Van  Cltteri  to  the  States  General,  February  iJ.  1690;  Evelyn's  Diary. 


CHAP,  great  change  during  the  year  which  had  elapsed  since  the  Con- 
;6i)ii.~'  vention  had  met;  and  it  is  impossible  to  deny  that  this  change 
•was,  at  least  in  part,  the  natural  consequence  and  the  just 
punishment  of  the  intemperate  and  vindictive  conduct  of  the 
Whigs.  Of  the  city  of  London  they  thought  themselves  suie. 
The  Livery  had  in  the  preceding  year  returned  four  zealous 
Whigs  without  a  contest.  But  all  the  four  had  voted  for  the 
Sacheverell  clause;  and  by  that  clause  many  of  the  merchant 
princes  of  Lombard  Street  and  Cornhill,  men  powerful  in  the 
twelve  great  companies,  men  whom  the  goldsmiths  followed 
humbly,  hat  in  hand,  up  and  down  the  arcades  of  the  Royal 
Exchange,  would  have  been  turned  with  all  indignity  out  of 
the  Court  of  Aldermen  and  out  of  the  Common  Council.  The 
struggle  was  for  life  or  death.  No  exertions,  no  artifices,  were 
spared.  William  wrote  to  Portland  that  the  Whigs  of  the  City, 
in  their  despair ,  stuck  at  nothing,  and  that,  as  they  went  on, 
they  would  soon  stand  as  much  in  need  of  an  Act  of  Indemnity 
as  the  Tories.  Four  Tories  however  were  returned,  and  that 
by  so  decisive  a  majority,  that  the  Tory  who  stood  lowest 
polled  four  hundred  votes  more  than  the  Whig  who  stood 
highest*  The  Sherifi"8,  desu-ing  to  defer  as  long  as  possible 
the  triumph  of  their  enemies,  granted  a  scrutiny.  But,  though 
the  majority  was  diminished,  the  result  was  not  affected.**  At 
Westminster,  two  opponents  of  the  Sacheverell  clause  were 
elected  without  a  contest.***  But  nothing  indicated  more 
strongly  the  disgust  excited  by  the  proceedings  of  the  late 
House  of  Commons  than  what  passed  in  the  University  of  Cam- 
bridge. Newton  retired  to  his  quiet  observatory  over  the  gate 
of  Trinity  College.    Two  Tories  were  returned  by  an  overwhelm- 

*  William  to  Portland,  j^^^^y^''^^    1690;  Van  Citters  to  the  States  Ge- 
neral, March  y*,.;  NarcissDs  Luttrell's  Diary. 

«•  Van  Citters,  March  \i.  16f  J;  Narcissus  Luttrell's  Diary. 
*»*  Van  Citters  to  the  States  General,  March  j}.  1690. 

YflLLlAM  AND   MAllT.  201 

ing  majority.  At  the  head  of  the  poll  was  Sawyer,  who  had,  chap. 
but  a  few  days  before,  been  excepted  from  the  Indemnity  BUI — — — 
and  expelled  from  the  House  of  Commons.  The  records  of  the 
University  contain  curious  proofs  that  the  unwise  severity  with 
which  he  had  been  treated  had  raised  an  enthusiastic  feeling  in 
his  favour.  Newton  voted  for  Sawyer;  and  this  remarkable 
fact  justifies  us  in  believing  that  the  great  philosopher,  in  whose 
genius  and  virtue  the  Whig  party  justly  glories,  had  seen  the 
headstrong  and  revengeful  conduct  of  that  party  with  concern 
and  disapprobation.* 

It  was  soon  plain  that  the  Tories  would  have  a  majority  in 
the  new  House  of  Commons.**  All  the  leading  Whigs  however 
obtained  seats,  with  one  exception.  John  Hampden  was  ex- 
cluded, and  was  regretted  only  by  the  most  intolerant  and 
unreasonable  members  of  his  party.*** 

The  King  meanwhile  was  making,  in  almost  everj'  depart-  Changes 
mentof  the  executive  government,  a  change  corresponding  to  eiecuHfe 

•  The  votes  were  for  Sawyer  165,  for  Finch  141,  for  Bennet,  whom  I  "'"'''• 
suppose  to-  have  been  a  Whig,  87.    At  the  University  every  voter  delivers 
his  vote  in  writing.     One  of  the  votes  given  on  this  occasion  is  in  the  fol- 
lowing words,  "Ilenricus  Jenkes,  ex  amore  Justitia,  digit  virum  consul- 
tissimum  Robertum  Sawyer." 

••  Van  Cittcrs  to  the  States  General,  March  j;.  1C90. 
•••  It  is  amusing  to  see  how  absurdly  foreign  pamphleteers,  ignorant  of 
the  real  state  of  things  in  England,  exaggerated  the  Importance  of  John 
Hampden,  whose  name  they  could  not  spell.  In  a  French  Dialogue  be- 
tween William  and  the  Ghost  of  Monmouth,  William  says,  "Eiitrc  ces 
membres  do  la  Chambre  Basse  dtoit  un  certain  homme  hardy,  opinifttre, 
et  z^U  iX  I'excfes  pour  sa  cr^ance ;  on  TappcUe  Embden,  dgalcment  dan- 
gereux  par  son  esprit  ct  par  son  crddit.  .  .  .  Je  ne  trouvay  point  de  chemin 
plus  court  pour  me  d^livrer  de  cette  traverse  que  do  casser  le  parleraent, 
en  convoquer  nn  autre,  et  empeschcr  que  cet  hommo,  qui  me  faisoit  tant 
d'ombrages,  ne  fust  nomnirf  pour  un  des  deputcz  aa  nouvel  parlement." 
"Ainsi,"  says  the  Ghost,  "cctte  cassation  de  parlement  qui  a  fait  tant  de 
bruit,  et  a  produit  tant  do  raisonnemens  et  de  speculations,  n'estoit  quo 
pour  excluro  Embden.  M:iis  s'il  cstoit  si  adroit  et  si  z4\4 ,  comment  as-tu 
pu  trouver  le  nioycn  de  le  fairc  exclurc  du  nombro  des  deputez?"  To  this 
very  sensible  question  the  King  answers,  "11  m'a  fallu  falre  d'^trnngcs 
manauvres  pour  en  venir  h  bout."  —  L'Ouibro  de  Monmouth,  1G90. 


CHAP,  the  change  which  the  general  election  was  making  in  the  com- 
position of  the  legislature.     Still,  however,  he  did  not  think  of 


forming  what  is  now  called  a  ministry.  He  still  reserved  to 
himself  more  especially  the  direction  of  foreign  affairs;  and  he 
superintended  with  minute  attention  all  the  preparations  for  the 
approaching  campaign  in  Ireland.  In  his  confidential  letters 
he  complained  that  he  had  to  perform,  with  little  or  no  assistance, 
the  task  of  organizing  the  disorganized  military  establishments 
of  the  kingdom.  The  work,  he  said,  was  heavy;  but  it  must 
be  done;  for  everything  depended  on  it.*  In  general,  the 
government  was  still  a  government  by  independent  depart- 
ments; and  in  almost  every  department  Whigs  and  Tories  were 
still  mingled,  though  not  exactly  in  the  old  proportions.  Tlie 
Whig  element  had  decidedly  predominated  in  1689.  The  Tory 
element  predominated,  though  not  very  decidedly,  in  1690. 

Halifax  had  laid  down  the  Privy  Seal.  It  was  offered  to 
Chesterfield,  a  Tory  who  had  voted  in  the  Convention  for  a 
Regency.  But  Chesterfield  refused  to  quit  his  country  house 
and  gardens  in  Derbyshire  for  the  Court  and  the  Council 
Chamber;  and  the  Privy  Seal  was  put  into  Commission.** 
Caermarthen  was  now  the  chief  adviser  of  the  Crovra  on  all 
matters  relating  to  the  internal  administration  and  to  the 
management  of  the  two  Houses  of  Parliament.  The  white 
staff,  and  the  immense  power  which  accompanied  the  white 
staff,  William  was  still  determined  never  to  entrust  to  any 
Caermar-  subject,     Caermarthen  therefore  continued  to  be  Lord  Pre- 


chief  mi- 

nisler.  •  "A  present  tout  d^pendra  d'un  bon  succ^s  en  Irlande;  ct  k  quoy  U 

faut  que  je  m'aplique  entiferement  pour  r^gler  le  mieux  que  je  puis  toatte 
chose.  ....    Je  voua  asseure  que  Je  n'ay  pas  peu  aur  Ics  bras  ,  estant  aussi 

mal  assists  que  Je  suis."  —  William  to  Portland,  vr-r — ■   1690. 

Feb.  7. 

••  Van  Citters,  Feb.  4}.  16|5;  Memoir  of  the  Earl  of  Chesterfield,  by 
himself;  Halifax  to  Chesterfield,  Feb.  6.;  Chesterfield  to  Halifax,  Feb.  8. 
The  editor  of  the  letters  of  the  second  Earl  of  Chesterfield,  not  allowing 
for  the  change  of  style,  has  misplaced  this  correspondence  by  a  year. 


■WILLIAM    AND   MAUr.  203 

sident;  but  he  took  possession  of  a  suite  of  apartments  in  Saint  chap, 
James's  Palace  which  was  considered  as  peculiarly  belonging  to  - 
the  Prime  Minister.*  He  had,  during  the  preceding  year, 
pleaded  ill  health  as  an  excuse  for  seldom  appearing  at  the 
Council  Board;  and  the  plea  was  not  without  foundation:  for 
his  digestive  organs  had  some  morbid  peculiarities  which 
puzzled  the  whole  College  of  Physicians:  his  complexion  was 
livid:  his  frame  was  meagre;  and  his  face,  handsome  and  in- 
tellectual as  it  was,  had  a  haggard  look  which  indicated  the 
restlessness  of  pain  as  well  as  the  restlessness  of  ambition.** 
As  soon,  however,  as  he  was  once  more  minister,  he  applied 
himself  strenuously  to  business,  and  toiled,  every  day,  and  all 
day  long,  with  an  energj'  which  amazed  everj'  body  who  saw 
his  ghastly  countenance  and  tottering  gait. 

Though  he  could  not  obtain  for  himself  the  office  of  Lord 
Treasurer,  his  influence  at  the  Treasmy  Avas  great.  Monmouth, 
the  First  Commissioner,  and  Delamere,  the  Chancellor  of  the 
Exchequer,  two  of  the  most  violent  "V\Tiigs  in  England,  quitted 
their  scats.  On  this,  as  on  many  other  occasions,  it  appeared 
that  they  had  nothing  but  their  Whiggism  in  common.  The 
volatile  Monmouth,  sensible  that  he  had  none  of  the  qualities 
of  a  financier,  seems  to  have  taken  no  personal  offence  at  being 
removed  from  a  place  which  he  never  ought  to  have  occupied. 
He  thankfully  accepted  a  pension,  which  his  profuse  habits 
made  necessary  to  him,  and  still  continued  to  attend  councils, 
to  frequent  the  Court,  and  to  discharge  the  duties  of  a  Lord  of 
the  Bedchamber.***    He  also  tried  to  make  himself  useful  in 

•  Van  Citters  to  the  States  General,  Feb.  4}.    1690. 

••  A  strange  peculiarity  of  his  constitotion  is  mentioned  In  an  acconnt 
of  him  which  was  published  a  few  months  after  his  death.  See  the  volume 
entitled  "Lives  and  Cliaractcrs  of  the  most  Illustrious  Persons,  British  and 
ForelBn,  who  died  in  the  year  1712." 

•••  Monmouth's  pension  and  the  good  nndergtandlng  between  him  and 
the  Court  are  mentioned  In  a  letter  from  a  Jacobite  agent  in  J'ngland, 
which  U  in  theArohlves  of  the  French  War  Office.  Thedate  is  April  I'g.  1690. 


CHAP,  military  business,  which  he  understood,  if  not  well,  yet  better 



■than  most  of  his  brother  nobles;  and  he  professed,  during  a 
few  months,  a  great  regard  for  Caermarthen.  Delamere  was  in 
a  very  different  mood.  It  was  in  vain  that  his  services  were 
overpaid  with  honours  and  riches.  He  was  created  Earl  of 
Warrington.  He  obtained  a  grant  of  all  the  lands  that  could 
be  discovered  belonging  to  Jesuits  in  five  or  six  counties.  A 
demand  made  by  him  on  account  of  expenses  incurred  at  the 
time  of  the  Revolution  was  allowed ;  and  he  carried  with  him 
into  retirement  as  the  reward  of  his  patriotic  exertions  a  large 
sum,  which  the  State  could  ill  spare.  But  his  anger  was  not  to 
be  so  appeased;  and  to  the  end  of  his  life  he  continued  to  com- 
plain bitterly  of  the  ingratitude  with  which  he  and  his  party  had 
been  treated.* 
Sir  John  Sir  John  Lowther  became  First  Lord  of  the  Treasury,  and 
'  was  the  person  on  whom  Caermarthen  chiefly  relied  for  the 
conduct  of  the  ostensible  business  of  the  House  of  Commons. 
Lowther  was  a  man  of  ancient  descent,  ample  estate,  and  great 
parliamentary  interest.  Though  not  an  old  man,  he  was  an 
old  senator:  for  he  had,  before  he  was  of  age,  succeeded  his 
father  as  knight  of  the  shire  for  Westmoreland.  In  truth  the 
representation  of  Westmoreland  was  almost  as  much  one  of 
the  hereditaments  of  the  Lowther  family  as  Lowther  Hall.     Sir 

•  The  grants  of  land  obtained  by  Delamere  are  mentioned  by  Narcissus 
LDttrell.  It  appears  from  the  Treasury  Letter  Boo)£  of  1G90  that  Delamere 
continued  to  dun  the  government  for  money  after  his  retirement.  As  to  his 
general  character  It  would  not  be  safe  to  trust  the  representations  of 
satirists.  But  his  own  writings,  and  the  admissions  of  the  divine  who 
preached  his  funeral  sermon,  show  that  his  temper  was  not  the  most 
gentle.  Clarendon  remarks  (Dec.  17.  1688)  that  a  little  thing  sufficed  to 
put  Lord  Delamere  into  a  passion.  In  the  poem  entitled  the  King  of  Hearts, 
Delamere  is  described  as  — 

"A  restless  malecontent  even  when  preferred." 
His  countenance  furnished  a  subject  for  satire: 

"His  boding  looks  a  mind  distracted  show; 
And  envy  sits  engraved  upon  his  brow." 

WnXIAM   AJTD   MARY.  205 

John's  abllitle.s  were  respectable;  his  manners,  though  sarcasti-  chap. 
cally  noticed  in  contemporary  lampoons  as  too  formal,  were  — ~— 
eminently  courteous:  his  personal  courage  he  was  but  too  ready 
to  prove:  his  morals  were  irreproachable:  his  time  was  divided 
betM-een respectable  labours  and  respectable  pleasures:  his  chief 
business  was  to  attend  the  House  of  Commons  and  to  preside 
on  the  Bench  of  Justice:  his  favourite  amusements  were  reading 
and  gardening.  In  opinions  he  was  a  very  moderate  Tory.  He 
was  attached  to  hereditary  monarchy  and  to  the  Established 
Church:  but  he  had  concurred  in  the  Revolution:  he  had  no 
misgivings  touching  the  title  of  William  and  Mary:  he  had 
sworn  allegiance  to  them  without  any  mental  reservation;  and 
he  appears  to  have  strictly  kept  his  oath.  Between  him  and 
Caermarthen  there  was  a  close  connection.  They  had  acted 
together  cordially  in  the  Northern  insurrection;  and  they 
agreed  in  their  political  views,  as  nearly  as  a  very  cunning 
statesman  and  a  very  honest  country  gentleman  could  be  ex- 
pected to  agree.*  By  Caermarthen's  influence  Lowther  was 
now  raised  to  one  of  the  most  important  places  in  the  kingdom. 
Unfortunately  it  was  a  place  requiring  qualities  very  diiferent 
from  those  which  suffice  to  make  a  valuable  county  member 
and  chairman  of  quarter  sessions.  The  tongue  of  the  new  First 
Lord  of  the  Treasury  was  not  sufficiently  ready,  nor  Avas  his 
temper  sufficiently  callous  for  his  post.  He  had  neither  adroit- 
ness to  parry,  nor  fortitude  to  endure,  the  gibes  and  reproaches 
to  which,  in  his  new  character  of  courtier  and  placeman,  he 

•  My  notion  of  Lowthcr's  character  has  been  chiefly  formed  from  two 
papers  written  by  himself,  one  of  which  has  been  printed,  though  I  believe 
not  published.  A  copy  of  the  other  Is  among  the  Mackintosh  MSS.  Some- 
thing I  have  taken  from  contemporary  satires.  That  Lowther  was  too 
ready  to  expose  his  life  in  private  encounters  is  sufficiently  proved  by  the 
fact  that,  when  he  was  First  Lord  of  the  Treasury,  he  accepted  a  challenge 
from  a  custom  house  officer  whom  he  had  dismissed.  There  was  a  duel; 
and  Lowther  was  severely  wounded.  This  event  is  mentioned  in  Luttrell's 
Diary,  April  1690. 

206  Hisioiir  or  ekglajsd, 

CHAP,  was  exposed.    There  was  also  something  to  be  done  which  he 
■^  *     was  too  scrupulous  to  do;  something  which  had  never  been 


done  by  Wolsey  or  Burleigh;  something  which  has  never  been 
done  by  any  English  statesman  of  our  generation ;  but  which, 
from  the  time  of  Charles  the  Second  to  the  time  of  George  the 
Third,  was  one  of  the  most  important  parts  of  the  business  of  a 
Rise  and        The  history  of  the  rise,  progress,  and  decline  of  parliament- 
of  par-     ary  corruption  in  England  still  remains  to  be  written.     No  sub- 
tary  cor-jccthas  Called  forth  a  greater  quantity  of  eloquent  vituperation 
England!"  and  Stinging  sarcasm.     Three  generations  of  serious  and  of 
sportive  writers  wept  and  laughed  over  the  venality  of  the 
senate.     That  venality  was  denounced  on  the  hustings,  anathe- 
matized from  the  pulpit,  and  burlesqued  on  the  stage;  was 
attacked  by  Pope  in  brilliant  verse,  and  by  Bolingbroke  in 
stately  prose,  by  Swift  with  savage  hatred,  and  by  Gay  with 
festive  malice.    The  voices  of  Tories  and  Whigs,  of  Johnson 
and  Akenside,  of  Smollett  and  Fielding,  contributed  to  swell 
the  cry.     But  none  of  those  who  railed  or  of  those  who  jested 
took  the  trouble  to  verify  the  phaenomena,  or  to  trace  them  to 
the  real  causes. 

Sometimes  the  evil  was  imputed  to  the  depravity  of  a  par- 
ticular minister,  but,  when  he  had  been  driven  from  power, 
and  when  those  who  had  most  loudly  accused  him  governed  in 
his  stead,  it  was  found  that  the  change  of  men  had  produced  no 
change  of  system.  Sometimes  the  evil  was  imputed  to  the 
degeneracy  of  the  national  character.  Luxury  and  cupidity,  it 
was  said,  had  produced  in  our  country  the  same  effect  which 
they  had  produced  of  old  in  the  Roman  republic.  The  modern 
Englishman  was  to  the  Englishman  of  the  sixteenth  century 
what  Verres  and  Curio  were  to  Dentatus  and  Fabricius.  Those 
who  held  this  language  were  as  ignorant  and  shallow  as  people 
generally  are  who  extol  the  past  at  the  expense  of  the  present. 

WILLIAM  AXD  MUir.  207 

A  man  of  sense  would  have  perceived  that,  if  the  English  of  chap. 
the  time  of  George  the  Second  had  really  been  more  sordid  and  ■■^^^ 
dishonest  than  their  forefathers,  the  deterioration  would  not 
have  shown  itself  in  one  place  alone.     The  progress  of  judicial 
venality  and  of  official  venality  would  have  kept  pace  with  the 
progress  of  parliamentary  venality.     But  nothing  is  more  cer- 
tain than  that,  while  the  legislature  was  becoming  more  and 
more  venal,  the  courts  of  law  and  the  public  offices  were  be- 
coming purer  and  purer.     The  representatives  of  the  people 
were  undoubtedly  more  mercenary  in  the  days  of  Hardwicke 
and  Pelham  than  in  the  days  of  the  Tudors.     But  the  Chancel- 
lors of  the  Tudors  took  plate  and  jewels  from  puitors  without 
scruple  or  shame;  and  Hardwicke  would  have  committed  for 
contempt  any  suitor  who  had  dared  to  bring  him  a  present. 
The  Treasurers  of  the  Tudors  raised  princely  fortunes  by  the 
sale  of  places,  titles,  and  pardons;  and  Pelham  would  have 
ordered  his  servants  to  turn  out  of  his  house  any  man  who  had 
ofi"ered  him  money   for  a  peerage  or  a  commissionership  of 
customs.    It  is  evident,  therefore,  that  the  prevalence  of  cor- 
ruption in  the  Parliament  cannot  be  ascribed  to  a  general 
depravation  of  morals.     The  taint  was  local:  we  must  look  for 
some  local  cause ;  and  such  a  cause  will  without  difficulty  be 

Under  our  ancient  sovereigns  the  House  of  Commons  rarely 
interfered  with  the  executive  administration.  The  Speaker  was 
charged  not  to  let  the  members  meddle  with  matters  of  State. 
If  any  gentleman  was  very  troublesome  he  was  cited  before  the 
Privy  Council,  interrogated,  reprimanded,  and  sent  to  medi- 
tate on  his  undutiful  conduct  in  the  Tower.  The  Commons  did 
their  best  to  protect  themselves  by  keeping  their  deliberations 
secret,  by  excluding  strangers,  by  making  it  a  crime  to  repeat 
out  of  doors  what  had  passed  within  doors.  But  these  precau- 
tions were  of  small  avail.    In  so  large  an  assembly  there  were 


208  HISTORY   OF   EffGLAND. 

CHAP,  always  talebearers  ready  to  carry  the  evil  report  of  their  brethren 
to  the  palace.  To  oppose  the  Court  was  therefore  a  service  of 
serious  danger.  In  those  days ,  of  course ,  there  was  little  or 
no  buying  of  votes.  For  an  honest  man  was  not  to  be  bought; 
and  it  was  much  cheaper  to  intimidate  or  to  coerce  a  knave  than 
to  buy  him. 

For  a  very  different  reason  there  has  been  no  direct  buying 
of  votes  within  the  memory  of  the  present  generation.  The 
House  of  Commons  is  now  supreme  in  the  State,  but  is  ac- 
countable to  the  nation.  Even  those  members  who  are  not 
chosen  by  large  constituent  bodies  are  kept  in  awe  by  public 
opinion.  Every  thing  is  printed:  every  thing  is  discussed: 
every  material  word  uttered  in  debate  is  read  by  a  million  of 
people  on  the  morrow.  Within  a  few  hours  after  an  important 
division,  the  lists  of  the  majority  and  minority  are  scanned  and 
analysed  in  every  town  from  Plymouth  to  Inverness.  If  a  name 
be  found  where  it  ought  not  to  be,  the  apostate  is  certain  to  be 
reminded  in  sharp  language  of  the  promises  which  he  has 
broken  and  of  the  professions  which  he  has  belied.  At  present, 
therefore ,  the  best  way  in  which  a  government  can  secure  the 
support  of  a  majority  of  the  representative  body  is  by  gaining 
the  confidence  of  the  nation. 

But  between  the  time  when  our  Parliaments  ceased  to  be 
controlled  by  royal  prerogative  and  the  time  when  they  began 
to  be  constantly  and  effectually  controlled  by  public  opinion 
there  was  a  long  interval.  After  the  Restoration,  no  govern- 
ment ventured  to  return  to  those  methods  by  which,  before  the 
civil  war,  the  freedom  of  deliberation  had  been  restrained.  A 
member  could  no  longer  be  called  to  account  for  his  harangues 
or  his  votes.  He  might  obstruct  the  passing  of  bills  of  supply : 
he  might  arraign  the  whole  foreign  policy  of  the  country:  he 
might  lay  on  the  table  articles  of  impeachment  against  all  the 
chief  ministers ;  and  he  ran  not  the  smallest  risk  of  being  treated 



as  Morrice  bad  been  treated  by  Elizabeth,  or  Eliot  by  Charles  cnAP 
the  First.  The  senator  now  stood  in  no  awe  of  the  Court.  Never-  - 
tbeless  all  the  defences  behind  which  the  feeble  Parliaments  of 
the  sixteenth  century  had  entrenched  themselves  against  the 
attacks  of  prerogative  were  not  only  still  kept  up,  but  were  ex- 
tended and  strengthened.  No  politician  seems  to  have  been 
aware  that  these  defences  were  no  longerneededfor  theiroriginal 
purpose ,  and  had  begun  to  serve  a  purpose  very  different.  The 
rules  which  had  been  originally  designed  to  secure  faithful  re- 
presentatives against  the  displeasure  of  the  Sovereign,  now 
operated  to  secure  unfaithful  representatives  against  the  dis- 
pleasure of  the  people,  and  proved  much  more  effectual  for  the 
latter  end  than  they  had  ever  been  for  the  former.  It  was  na- 
tural, it  was  inevitable,  that,  in  a  legislative  body  emancipated 
from  the  restraints  of  the  sixteenth  century,  and  not  yet  feub- 
jected  to  the  restraints  of  the  nineteenth  century,  in  a  legis- 
lative body  which  feared  neither  the  King  nor  the  public ,  there 
should  be  corruption. 

The  plague  s])ot  began  to  be  visible  and  palpable  in  the  days 
of  the  Cabal.  Clifford,  the  boldest  and  fiercest  of  the  wicked 
Five,  had  the  merit  of  discovering  that  a  noisy  patriot,  whom 
it  was  no  longer  possible  to  send  to  prison,  might  be  timied 
into  a  courtier  by  a  goldsmith's  note.  Clifford's  example  was 
followed  by  his  successors.  It  soon  became  a  proverb  that  a 
Parliament  resembled  a  pump.  Often,  the  wits  said,  when  a 
pump  appears  to  be  dry,  if  a  very  small  quantity  of  water  is 
poured  in,  a  great  quantity  of  water  gushes  out;  and  so,  when 
a  Parliament  appears  to  be  niggardly,  ten  thousand  pounds 
judiciously  given  in  bribes  will  often  produce  a  million  in  sup- 
plies. The  evil  was  not  diminished,  nay,  it  was  aggravated, 
by  that  Revolution  which  freed  our  country  from  so  many  other 
evils.  The  House  of  Commons  was  now  more  powerful  than  ever 
as  against  the  Crowni ,  and  yet  was  not  more  strictly  responsible 
Macautaij,  llisiory.  V,  ^'* 


210  HlS'XOlir   01'  ENGLAND. 

CHAP,  than  formerly  to  the  nation.  The  government  had  a  new  motive 
■  for  buying  the  members;  and  the  members  had  no  new  motive 
for  refusing  to  sell  themselves.  William,  indeed,  had  an  aver- 
sion to  bribery:  heresolved  to  abstain  from  it;  and,  during  the 
first  year  of  his  reign,  he  kept  his  resolution.  Unhappily  the 
events  of  that  year  did  not  encourage  him  to  persevei-e  in  his 
good  intentions.  As  soon  as  Caermarthen  was  placed  at  the 
head  of  the  internal  administration  of  the  realm,  a  complete 
change  took  place.  He  was  in  truth  no  novice  in  the  art  of 
purchasing  votes.  He  had,  sixteen  years  before,  succeeded 
Clifford  at  the  Treasury,  had  inherited  Clifford's  tactics,  had 
improved  upon  them,  and  had  employed  them  to  an  extent 
which  would  have  amazed  the  inventor.  From  the  day  on  which 
Caermarthen  was  called  a  second  time  to  the  chief  direction  of 
affairs ,  parliamentary  corruption  continued  to  be  practised,  with 
scarcely  any  intermission,  by  a  long  succession  of  statesmen, 
till  the  close  of  the  American  war.  Neither  of  the  great  English 
parties  can  justly  charge  the  other  with  any  peculiar  guilt  on 
this  account.  The  Tories  were  the  first  who  introduced  the 
system  and  the  last  who  clung  to  it:  but  it  attained  its  greatest 
vigour  in  the  time  of  Whig  ascendency.  The  extent  to  which 
parliamentary  support  was  bartered  for  money  cannot  be  with 
any  precision  ascertained.  But  it  seems  probable  that  the 
number  of  hirelings  was  greatly  exaggerated  by  vulgar  report, 
and  was  never  large,  though  often  sufficient  to  turn  the  scale 
on  important  divisions.  An  unprincipled  minister  eagerly  ac- 
cepted the  services  of  these  mercenaries.  An  honest  minister 
reluctantly  submitted,  for  the  sake  of  the  commomvealth ,  to 
what  he  considered  as  a  shameful  and  odious  extortion.  But 
during  many  years  every  minister,  whatever  his  personal  cha- 
racter might  be,  consented,  willingly  or  unwillingly,  to  manage 
the  ParUament  in  the  only  way  in  which  the  Parliament  could 
then  be  managed.    It  at  length  became  as  notorious  that  there 



was  a  market  for  votes  at  the  Treasury  as  that  there  was  a  cirAP. 
market  for  cattle  in  Smithfield.  Numerous  demagogues  out  of - 
power  declaimed  against  this  vile  traffic:  but  eveiy  one  of  those 
demagogues,  as  soon  as  he  was  in  power,  found  himself  driven 
by  a  kind  of  fatality  to  engage  in  that  traffic,  or  at  least  to 
connive  at  it.  Now  and  then  perhaps  a  man  who  had  romantic 
notions  of  public  virtue  refused  to  be  himself  the  pajTnaster  of 
the  corrupt  crew ,  and  averted  his  eyes  while  his  less  scrupulous 
colleagues  did  that  which  he  knew  to  be  indispensable,  and  yet 
felt  to  be  degrading.  But  the  instances  of  this  prudery  were 
rare  indeed.  The  doctrine  generally  received,  even  among 
upright  and  honourable  politicians,  was  that  it  was  shameful  to 
receive  bribes,  but  that  it  was  necessary  to  distribute  them.  It 
is  a  remarkable  fact  that  the  evil  reached  the  greatest  height 
during  the  administration  of  Henrj'  Pelham,  a  statesman  of 
good  intentions,  of  spotless  morals  in  private  life,  and  of 
exemplary  disinterestedness.  It  is  not  difficult  to  guess  by  what 
arguments  he  and  other  well  meaning  men,  who,  like  him, 
followed  the  fashion  of  their  age,  quieted  their  consciences. 
No  casuist,  however  severe,  has  denied  that  it  may  be  a  duty 
to  give  what  it  is  a  crime  to  take.  It  was  infamous  in  Jeffreys  to 
demand  money  for  the  lives  of  the  unhappy  prisoners  whom  he 
tried  at  Dorchester  and  Taunton.  But  it  was  not  infamous,  nay, 
it  was  laudable,  in  the  kinsmen  and  friends  of  a  prisoner  to 
contribute  of  their  substance  in  order  to  make  up  a  purse  for 
Jeffreys.  The  Sallee  rover,  who  threatened  to  bastinado  a 
Chi'istian  captive  to  death  unless  a  ransom  was  forthcoming,  was 
an  odious  ruffian.  But  to  ransom  a  Christian  captive  from  a 
Sallee  rover  was,  not  merely  an  innocent,  but  a  highly  merito- 
rious act.  It  would  be  improper  in  such  cases  to  use  the  word 
corruption.  Those  who  receive  the  filthy  lucre  are  corrupt  al- 
ready. He  who  bribes  them  does  not  make  them  wicked:  he 
finds  them  so;  and  he  merely  prevents  their  evil  propensities 


212  mSTOliT  OF  ENGLAND. 

CHAP,  from  producing  evil  effects.    And  might  not  the  same  plea  be 



■urged  in  defence  of  a  minister  who,  when  no  other  expedient 
would  avail,  paid  greedy  and  lo'mninded  men  not  to  ruin  their 

It  was  by  some  such  reasoning  as  this  that  the  scruples  of 
William  were  overcome.  Honest  Burnet,  with  the  uncourtly 
courage  which  distinguished  him,  ventured  to  remonstrate 
with  the  King.  "Nobody,"  William  answered,  "hates  bribery 
more  than  I.  But  I  have  to  do  with  a  set  of  men  who  must  be 
managed  in  this  vile  way  or  not  at  all.  I  must  strain  a  point; 
or  the  country  is  lost."* 
Sir  John  It  was  ncccssary  for  the  Lord  President  to  have  in  the  House 
Trevor,  ^f  Qommons  an  agent  for  the  purchase  of  members;  and  Low- 
ther  was  both  too  awkward  and  too  scrupulous  to  be  such  an 
agent.  But  a  man  in  whom  craft  and  profligacy  were  united  in 
a  high  degree  was  without  difficulty  found.  This  was  the 
Master  of  the  Rolls,  Sir  John  Trevor,  who  had  been  Speaker 
in  the  single  Parliament  held  by  James.  High  as  Trevor  had 
risen  in  the  world,  there  were  people  who  could  still  remember 
him  a  strange  looking  lawj'er's  clerk  in  the  Inner  Temple.  In- 
deed, nobody  who  had  ever  seen  him  was  likely  to  forget  him. 
For  his  grotesque  features  and  his  hideous  squint  were  far 
beyond  the  reach  of  caricature.  His  parts,  which  were  quick 
and  vigorous,  had  enabled  him  early  to  master  the  science  of 
chicane.  Gambling  and  betting  were  his  amusements;  and 
out  of  these  amusements  he  contrived  to  extract  much  business 
in  the  way  of  his  profession.  For  his  opinion  on  a  question 
arising  out  of  a  wager  or  a  game  at  chance  had  as  much 
authority  as  a  judgment  of  any  court  in  Westminster  Hall.  He 
soon  rose  to  be  one  of  the  boon  companions  whom  Jeffreys 
hugged  in  fits  of  maudlin  friendship  over  the  bottle  at  night, 
and  cursed  and  reviled  in  court  on  the  monow.     Under  such  a 

•  Burnet,  ii.  76. 

\MI-L1AM    AND    M\HX.  213 

teacher,  Trevor  rapidly  became  a  proficient  in  that  peculiar   chap. 
kind  of  rhetoric  which  had  enlivened  the  trials  of  Baxter  and  of 


Alice  Lisle.  Report  indeed  spoke  of  some  scolding  matches 
between  the  Chancellor  and  his  friend,  in  which  the  disciple 
had  been  not  less  voluble  and  scurrilous  than  the  master.  These 
contests,  however,  did  not  take  place  till  the  younger  adven- 
turer had  attained  riches  and  dignities  such  that  he  no  longer 
stood  in  need  of  the  patronage  which  had  raised  him.*  Among 
High  Churchmen  Trevor,  in  spite  of  his  notorious  want  of 
principle,  had  at  this  time  a  certain  popularity,  which  he  seems 
to  have  owed  chiefly  to  their  conviction  that,  however  insincere 
he  might  be  in  general,  his  hatred  of  the  dissenters  was  genuine 
and  hearty.  There  was  little  doubt  that,  in  a  House  of  Com- 
mons in  which  the  Tories  had  a  majority,  he  might  easily,  with 
the  support  of  the  Court,  be  chosen  Speaker.  He  was  impa- 
tient to  be  again  in  his  old  post,  which  he  well  knew  how  to 
make  one  of  the  most  lucrative  in  the  kingdom;  and  he 
willingly  undertook  that  secret  and  shameful  office  for  which 
Lowther  was  altogether  unqualified. 

Richard  Hampden  was  appointed  Chancellor  of  the 
Exchequer.  This  appointment  was  probably  intended  as  a 
mark  of  royal  gratitude  for  the  moderation  of  his  conduct,  and 
for  the  attempts  which  he  had  made  to  curb  the  violence  of  his 
Whig  friends,  and  especially  of  his  son. 

Godolphin  voluntarily  left  the  Treasury;  why,  we  are  not  codo'^- 
informed.  We  can  scarcely  doubt  that  the  dissolution  and  the  lircs. 
result  of  the  general  election  must  have  given  him  pleasure. 
For  his  political  opinions  leaned  towards  Tor}'ism ;  and  he  had, 
in  the  late  reign,  done  some  things  which,  though  not  very 
heinous,  stood  in  need  of  an  indemnity.  It  is  probable  that  he 
did  not  think  it  compatible    with   his  personal   dignity  to 

•  Roger  North's  Life  of  Guildford. 


CHAP,  sit  at  the  board  below  Lowther,    who  was  in  rank  his  in- 

Changes  A  new  Commission  of  Admiralty  was  issued.  At  the  head 
Admi"-  of  the  naval  administration  was  placed  Thomas  Herbert,  Earl 
raitjr.  of  Pembroke,  a  high  bom  and  high  bred  man,  who  had  ranked 
among  the  Tories,  who  had  voted  for  a  Regency,  and  who  had 
married  the  daughter  of  Sawyer.  That  Pembroke's  Toryism, 
however,  was  not  of  a  narrow  and  illiberal  kind  is  sufficiently 
provedby  the  fact  that,  immediately  after  the  Revolution ,  the 
Essay  on  the  Human  Understanding  was  dedicated  to  him  by 
John  Locke,  in  token  of  gratitude  for  kind  offices  done  in 
evil  times.** 

Nothing  was  omitted  which  could  reconcile  Torrington  to 
this  change.  For,  though  he  had  been  found  an  incapable  ad- 
ministrator, he  still  stood  so  high  in  general  estimation  as  a 
seaman  that  the  government  was  unwilling  to  lose  his  services. 
He  was  assured  that  no  slight  was  intended  to  him.  He  could 
not  serve  his  country  at  once  on  the  ocean  and  at  Westminster ; 
and  it  had  been  thought  less  difficult  to  supply  his  place  in  his 
office  than  on  the  deck  of  his  flag  ship.  He  was  at  first  very 
angry,  and  actually  laid  down  his  commission :  but  some  conces- 
sions were  made  to  his  pride:  a  pension  of  three  thousand  pounds 
a  year  and  a  grant  of  ten  thousand  acres  of  crown  land  in  the 
Peterborough  level  were  irresistible  baits  to  his  cupidity ;  and, 
in  an  evil  hour  for  England,  he  consented  to  remain  at  the  head 
of  the  naval  force,  on  which  the  safety  of  her  coasts  depended.*** 

•  Till  some  years  after  this  time  the  First  Lord  of  the  Treasury  was 
always  the  man  of  highest  ranli  at  the  Board.  Thus  Monmouth,  Delamero 
and  Godolphin  took  their  places  according  to  the  order  of  precedence  in 
which  thoy  stood  as  peers. 

••  The  dedication,  however,  was  thought  too  laudatory.  "The  only 
thing,"  Mr.  Pope  used  to  say,  "he  could  never  forgive  his  philosophic 
master  wai  the  dedication  to  the  Essay."  —  Kiiffhead's  Life  of  Pope. 

*»•  Van  Citters  to  the  States  General,  ■  .^"   ^  "  1690;  Narcissus  Lnttrell'S 

May  5. 

Diary;  Treasnry  Letter  Book,  Feb.  4.  16 JJ. 

WILMAM   ANn   MAIir.  215 

WTiile   these  changes  were  making  in  the  offices  round    chap, 
Whitehall,  the  Commissions  of  Lieutenancy  all  over  the  king- —~- 
dom  were  revised.     The  Tories  had,    during  twelve  months, changes 
been  complaining  that  their  share  in  the  government  of  the  commi'"- 
districts  in  which  they  lived  bore  no  proportion  to  their  number,  """^_° 
to  their  wealth,  and  to  the  consideration  which  they  enjoyed  in  ""^"'•y- 
society.     They  now  regained  with  great  delight  their  former 
position  in  their  shires.     The  Whigs  raised  a  cry  that  the  King 
was  foully  betrayed,  and  that  he  had  been  induced  by  evil 
counsellors  to  put  the  sword  into  the  hands  of  men  who ,  as 
soon  as  a  favourable  opportunity  offered,  would  tiu-n  the  edge 
against  himself.     In  a  dialogue  which  was  believed  to  have 
been  written  by  the  newly  created  Earl  of  WaiTington ,  and 
which  had  a  wide  circidation  at  the  time,  but  has  long  been 
forgotten,    the  Lord  Lieutenant  of  a  county  was  introduced 
expressing  his  apprehensions  that  the  majority  of  his  deputies 
were  traitors  at  heart.*    But  nowhere  was  the  excitement  pro- 
duced by  the  new  distribution  of  power  so  great  as  in  the 
capital.     By  a  Commission   of  Lieutenancy  which  had  been 
issued  immediately  after  the  Kevolution,  the  train  bands  of  the 
City  had  been  put  under  the  command  of  stanch  ^\'lligs.    Those 
powerful  and  opulent  citizens  whose  names  were  omitted  com- 
plained that  the  list  was  filled  with  elders  of  Turitan  congrega- 
tions, with  Shaftesbury's  brisk  boys,  with  Rye  House  plotters, 
and  that  it  was  scarcely  possible  to  find,  mingled  with  that 
multitude  of  fanatics  and  levellers,  a  single  man  sincerely  at- 
tached to  monarchy  and  to  the  Church.     A  new  Commission 
now  appeared  framed  by  Caermarthen  and  Nottingham.     They 
had  taken  counsel  with  Compton,  the  Bishop  of  the  diocese; 
and  Compton  was  not  a  very  discreet  adviser.  He  had  origmally 

•  The  Dialogue  between  a  I^ord  Llcatenant  and  one  of  his  Depnlios 
will  not  bo  found  In  the  collection  of  Warrington's  writings  which  wna 
published  In  1604,  under  the  sanction,  as  it  should  seem,  of  his  family. 



CHAP,  been  a  High  Churchman  and  a  Tory.  The  severity  with  which 
-  he  had  been  treated  in  the  late  reign  had  transformed  him  into 
aLatitudinarian  and  arebel;  and  he  had  now,  from  jealousy  of 
Tillotson,  turned  High  Churchman  and  Tory  again.  The  Whigs 
complained  that  they  were  ungratefully  proscribed  by  a  govern- 
ment which  owed  its  existence  to  them;  that  some  of  the  best 
friends  of  King  William  had  been  dismissed  with  contumely  to 
make  room  for  some  of  hl<«  worst  enemies,  for  men  who  were  as 
unworthy  of  trust  as  any  Irish  Rapparee,  for  men  who  had  de- 
livered up  to  a  tyrant  the  charter  and  the  immemorial  privileges 
of  the  City,  for  men  who  had  made  themselves  notorious  by  the 
cruelty  with  which  they  had  enforced  the  penal  laws  against 
Protestant  dissenters,  nay,  for  men  who  had  sate  on  those 
juries-iwhich  had  found  Russell  and  Cornish  guilty.*  The  dis- 
content was  so  gi'eat  that  it  seemed,  during  a  short  time ,  likely 
to  cause  pecuniary  embarrassment  to  the  State.  The  supplies 
voted  by  the  late  Parliament  came  in  slowly.  The  wants  of  the 
public  service  were  pressing.  In  such  circumstances  it  was  to 
the  citizens  of  London  that  the  government  always  looked  for 
help;  and  the  government  of  William  had  hitherto  looked 
especially  to  those  citizens  who  professed  Whig  opinions. 
Things  were  now  changed.  A  few  eminent  Wliigs,  in  their 
first  anger,  sullenly  refused  to  advance  money.  Nay,  one  or 
two  unexpectedly  withdrew  considerable  sums  from  the 
Exchequer.**  The  financial  difficulties  might  have  been  serious, 
had  not  some  wealthy  Tories,  who,  if  Sacheverell's  clause  had 
become  law,    would  have  be-en  excluded  from  all  municipal 

•  Van  Citters  to  tho  States  General,  March  J |.  April  ,\.  1690;  Nar- 
cissus Luttrell's  Diary;  Barnet,  ii.  72.;  Tlie  Triennial  Mayor,  or  the 
Rapparees,  a  Poem,  1691,  The  poet  says  of  one  of  the  new  civic  func- 
tionaries : 

"Soon  his  pretence  to  conscience  we  can  rout, 
And  in  a  bloody  Jury  find  him  out. 
Where  noble  Fubliua  worried  was  with  rogues." 

••  Treasury  Minute  Book,  Feb.  6.  ICfJ. 

WUJ.IAM  AND   MAKY.  217 

honours,    offered  the  Treasury  a  hundred   thousand  pounds    chap. 



down,  and  promised  to  raise  a  still  larger  sum.* 

While  the  City  was  thus  agitated,  came  a  day  appointed  by 
royal  ])roclamation  for  a  general  fast.  The  reasons  assigned  for 
this  solemn  act  of  devotion  were  the  lam.entable  state  of  Ireland 
and  the  approaching  departure  of  the  King.  Prayers  were 
offered  up  for  the  safety  of  His  Majesty's  person  and  for  the 
success  of  his  arms.  The  churches  of  London  were  crowded. 
The  most  eminent  preachers  of  the  capital,  who  were,  with 
scarcely  an  exception,  either  moderate  Tories  or  moderate 
Whigs,  exerted  themselves  to  calm  the  public  mind,  and 
earnestly  exhorted  their  flocks  not  to  withhold,  at  this  great 
conjuncture,  a  hearty  support  from  the  prince,  with  whose  fate 
was  bound  up  the  fate  of  the  whole  nation.  Burnet  told  a  large 
congregation  from  the  pulpit  how  the  Greeks ,  when  the  Great 
Turk  was  preparing  to  besiege  Constantinople,  could  not  be 
persuaded  to  contribute  any  part  of  their  wealth  for  the  com- 
mon defence,  and  how  bitterly  they  repented  of  their  avarice 
when  they  were  compelled  to  deliver  up  to  the  victorious  in- 
fidels the  treasures  which  had  been  refused  to  the  supplications 
of  the  last  Christian  emperor.** 

The  Whigs,  however,  as  a  party,  did  not  stand  in  need  of  Temper 
such  an  admonition.  Grieved  and  angry  as  they  were,  they  wiiigs. 
were  perfectly  sensible  that  on  the  stability  of  the  throne  of 
William  depended  all  that  they  most  highly  prized.  ^Vhat 
some  of  them  might,  at  this  conjuncture,  have  been  tempted 
to  do  if  they  could  have  found  another  leader,  if,  for  example, 
their  Protestant  Duke,  their  King  Monmouth,  had  stiU  been 
living,  may  be  doubted.  But  their  only  choice  was  between 
the  Sovereign  whom  they  had  set  up  and  the  Sovereign  whom 

•  Van  Citters,  Feb.  H.  Mar.  H.  Mar,  ^5.  1690. 
••  Van  enters,  March  \\.  1690.    The  sermon  is  extant.    It  was  preached 

al  Bow  Church  before  the  Court  of  Aldermen. 

218  msTOKr  op  England. 

CHAP,  they  had  pulled  down.    It  would  have  been  strange  indeed 
■  ,g^,', —  if  they  had  taken  part  with  James  in  order  to  punish  William, 
when  the  worst  fault  which  they  imputed  to  AVilliam  was  that 
he  did  not  participate  in  the  vindictive  feeling  with  which  they 
remembered  the  tyranny  of  James.     Much  as  they  disliked  the 
Bill  of  Indemnity,  they  had  not  forgotten  the  Bloody  Circuit. 
They  therefore,  even  in  their  ill  humour,  continued  true  to 
their  own  King,  and,  vvhile  grumbling  at  him,  were  ready  to 
stand  by  hun  against  his  adversai-y  with  their  lives  and  for- 
of"o'"°'        There  were  indeed  exceptions;  but  they  were  very  few;  and 
Wbigs      they  were  to  be  found  almost  exclusively  in  two  classes,  which, 

withSaint  "'  •  «  i  i  ... 

Germaiusi  though  Widely  diiiermg  from  each  other  in  social  position, 
biiryV  closely  resembled  each  other  in  laxity  of  principle.  All  the 
fifguson.  -\y]jjgg  ^}^Q  j^j.g  kno-wn  to  have  trafficked  with  Saint  Germains 
belonged,  not  to  the  main  body  of  the  party,  but  either  to  the 
head  or  to  the  tail.  They  were  either  patricians  high  in  rank 
and  office,  or  caitiffs  who  had  long  been  employed  in  the 
foulest  drudgery  of  faction.  To  the  former  class  belonged 
Shrewsbury.  Of  the  latter  class  the  most  remarkable  specimen 
was  Robert  Ferguson.  From  the  day  on  which  the  Convention 
Parliament  was  dissolved ,  Shrewsbury  began  to  waver  in  his 
allegiance:  but  that  he  had  ever  wavered  was  not,  till  long 
after,  suspected  by  the  public.  That  Ferguson  had,  a  few 
months  after  the  Revolution,  become  a  furious  Jacobite,  was 
no  secret  to  any  body,  and  ought  not  to  have  been  matter 
of  suqjrise  to  any  body.  For  his  apostasy  he  could  not  plead 
even  the  miserable  excuse  that  he  had  been  neglected.  The 
ignominious  services  which  he  had  formerly  rendered  to  his 
party  as  a  spy,  a  raiser  of  riots ,  a  dispenser  of  bribes,  a  writer 
of  libels,  a  prompter  of  false  witnesses,  had  been  rewarded 
only  too  prodigally  for  the  honour  of  the  new  government 
•  Welwood's  Mercurlus  ReformatHs ,  Feb.  12.  1690. 


That  he  should  hold  any  hiirh  office  was  of  course  impossible,  chap. 
But  a  sinecure  place  of  five  hundred  a  year  had  been  created  for  — ,g|;^^ 
him  in  the  department  of  the  Excise.  He  now  had  what  to  him 
was  opulence:  but  opulence  did  not  satisfy  him.  For  money 
indeed  he  had  never  scrupled  to  be  guilty  of  fraud  aggravated 
by  hj'pocrisy:  yet  the  love  of  money  was  not  his  strongest 
passion.  Long  habits  had  developed  in  him  a  moral  disease 
from  which  people  who  make  political  agitation  their  calling  are 
seldom  wholly  free.  He  could  not  be  quiet.  Sedition,  from 
being  his  business,  had  become  his  pleasure.  It  was  as  im- 
possible for  him  to  live  without  doing  mischief  as  for  an  old 
dram  drinker  or  an  old  opium  eater  to  live  without  the  daily 
dose  of  poison.  The  very  discomforts  and  hazards  of  a  lawless 
life  had  a  strange  attraction  for  him.  He  could  no  more  be 
turned  into  a  peaceable  and  loyal  subject  than  the  fox  con  be 
turned  into  a  shepherd's  dog,  or  than  the  kite  can  be  taught 
the  habits  of  the  barn  door  fowl.  The  Red  Indian  prefers  his 
hunting  ground  to  cultivated  fields  and  stately  cities:  the  gipsy, 
sheltered  by  a  commodious  roof,  and  provided  with  meat  in 
due  season,  still  pines  for  the  ragged  tent  on  the  moor  and  the 
meal  of  carrion;  and  even  so  Ferguson  became  weary  of  plenty 
and  security,  of  his  salary,  his  house,  his  table  and  his  coach, 
and  longed  to  be  again  the  president  of  societies  where  none 
could  enter  without  a  password ,  the  director  of  secret  presses, 
the  distributor  of  inflammatory  pamphlets;  to  see  the  walls 
placarded  with  descriptions  of  his  person  and  offers  of  reward 
for  his  apprehension;  to  have  six  or  seven  names,  with  a  dif- 
ferent wig  and  cloak  for  each,  and  to  change  his  lodgings  thrice 
a  week  at  dead  of  night.  His  hostility  was  not  to  Popery  or  to 
Protestantism,  to  monarchical  government  or  to  republican 
government,  to  the  House  of  Stuart  or  to  the  House  of  Nassau, 
but  to  whatever  was  at  the  time  established. 

By  the  Jacobites  this  new  ally  was  eagerly  welcomed.     They  nipw  of 

220  niSTOKY   OF  EK GLAND. 

CHAP,  were  at  that  moment  busied  with  schemes  in  which  the  help  of 

\  V 

— — —  a  veteran  plotter  was  much  needed.  There  had  been  a  great 
the  jaco-  stir  among  them  from  the  day  on  which  it  had  been  announced 
'"'^"°"  that  William  had  determined  to  take  the  command  in  Ireland; 
and  they  were  all  looking  forward  with  impatient  hope  to  his 
departure.  He  was  not  a  prince  against  whom  men  lightly 
venture  to  set  up  a  standard  of  rebellion.  His  courage,  his 
sagacity,  the  secrecy  of  his  counsels,  the  success  which  had 
generally  crowned  his  enterprises,  overawed  the  vulgar.  Even 
his  most  acrimonious  enemies  feared  him  at  Least  as  much  as 
they  hated  him.  "V\1iile  he  was  at  Kensington,  ready  to  take 
horse  at  a  moment's  notice,  malecontents  who  prized  their 
heads  and  their  estates  were  generally  content  to  vent  their 
hatred  by  drinking  confusion  to  his  hooked  nose,  and  by 
squeezing  with  significant  energy  the  orange  which  was  his 
emblem.  But  their  courage  rose  when  they  reflected  that  the 
sea  would  soon  roll  between  him  and  our  island.  In  the  mili- 
tary and  political  calculations  of  that  age,  thirty  leagues  of 
water  were  as  important  as  three  hundred  leagues  now  are. 
The  winds  and  waves  frequently  interrupted  all  communication 
between  England  and  Ireland.  It  sometimes  happened  that, 
during  a  fortnight  or  three  weeks ,  not  a  word  of  intelligence 
from  London  reached  Dublin.  Twenty  English  counties  might 
be  up  in  arms  long  before  any  rumour  that  an  insurrection  was 
even  apprehended  could  reach  Ulster.  Early  in  the  spring, 
therefore,  the  leading  malecontents  assembled  in  London  for 
the  purpose  of  concerting  an  extensive  plan  of  action ,  and  cor- 
responded assiduously  both  with  France  and  with  Ireland. 
Meeting  Such  was  the  temper  of  the  English  factions  when ,  on  the 

new^'par-  twentieth  of  March ,  the  new  Parliament  met.     The  first  duty 
hament.   ^jjjch  the  Commons  had  to  perform  was  that  of  choosing  a 
Speaker.    Trevor  was  proposed  by  Lowther,  was  elected  with- 
out opposition,  and  was  presented  and  approved  with  the  or- 

WTIJJAM   ANT>   MAllT.  221 

dinary  ceremonial.     The  King  then  made  a  speech  in  which  he    chap. 



especially  recommended  to  the  consideration  of  the  Houses 
two  important  subjects,  the  settling  of  the  revenue  and  the 
granting  of  an  amnesty.  He  represented  strongly  the  necessity 
of  despatch.  Everyday  was  precious,  the  season  for  action 
was  api)roaching.  "Let  not  us,"  he  said,  "be  engaged  in 
debates  while  our  enemies  are  in  the  field."* 

The  first  subject  which  the  Commons  took  into  considera-seiue- 

mcnl  of 

tion  was  the  state  of  the  revenue.  A  great  part  of  the  taxes  tho  re- 
had,  since  the  accession  of  William  and  Mary,  been  collected 
under  the  authority  of  Acts  passed  for  short  terms,  and  it  was 
now  time  to  determine  on  a  permanent  arrangement.  A  list 
of  the  salaries  and  pensions  for  which  provision  was  to  be  made 
was  laid  before  the  House;  and  the  amount  of  the  sums  thus 
expended  called  forth  very  just  complaints  from  the  indepen- 
dent members,  among  whom  Sir  Charles  Sedley  distinguished 
himself  by  his  sarcastic  pleasantry.  A  clever  speech  which  he 
made  against  the  placemen  stole  into  print  and  was  widely  cir- 
culated: it  has  since  been  often  republished;  and  it  proves, 
what  his  poems  and  plays  might  make  us  doubt,  that  his  con- 
temporaries were  not  mistaken  in  considering  him  as  a  man 
of  parts  and  vivacity.  Unfortunately  the  ill  humour  which  the 
sight  of  the  Civil  List  caused  evaporated  in  jests  and  invectives 
without  producing  any  reform. 

The  ordinarj'  revenue  by  which  the  government  had  been 
supported  before  the  Ilevolution  had  been  partly  hereditarj', 
and  had  been  partly  drawn  from  taxes  granted  to  each  so- 
vereign for  life.  The  hereditary  revenue  had  passed,  with  the 
crown,  to  William  and  Mary.  It  was  derived  from  the  rents 
of  the  royal  domains,  from  fees,  from  fines,  from  wine  li- 
censes ,  from  the  first  fruits  and  tenths  of  benefices ,  from  the 

•  Commons'  Journal,  Marcli  20,  21,  22.  165|. 


222  JUaXOKY   01'  EMGLAJd). 

CHAP,  receipts  of  the  Post  Office,  and  from  that  part  of  the  excise 
^^'  which  had,  immediately  after  the  Restoration,  heen  granted 
to  Charles  the  Second  and  to  his  successors  for  ever  in  lieu  of 
the  feudal  services  due  to  our  ancient  kings.  The  income  from 
all  these  sources  was  estimated  at  between  four  and  five  hun- 
dred thousand  pounds.* 

Those  duties  of  excise  and  customs  which  had  been  granted 
to  James  for  life  had,  at  the  close  of  his  reign,  yielded  about 
nine  hundred  thousand  pounds  annually.  William  naturally 
wished  to  have  this  income  on  the  same  terms  on  which  his 
uncle  had  enjoyed  it;  and  his  ministers  did  their  best  to  gratify 
his  wishes.  Lowther  moved  that  the  grant  should  be  to  the 
King  and  Queen  for  their  joint  and  separate  lives ,  and  spoke 
repeatedly  and  earnestly  in  defence  of  this  motion.  He  set 
forth  William's  claims  to  public  gratitude  and  confidence ;  the 
nation  rescued  from  Popery  and  arbitrary  power;  the  Church 
delivered  from  persecution;  the  constitution  established  on  a 
firm  basis.  Would  the  Commons  deal  grudgingly  with  a  prince 
who  had  done  more  for  England  than  had  ever  been  done  for 
her  by  any  of  his  predecessors  in  so  short  a  time,  with  a  prince 
who  was  now  about  to  expose  himself  to  hostile  weapons  and 
pestilential  air  in  order  to  preserve  the  English  colony  in  Ire- 
land, with  a  prince  who  was  prayed  for  in  everj'  corner  of  the 
world  where  a  congregation  of  Protestants  could  meet  for  the 
worship  of  God?**  But  on  this  subject  Lo^vther  harangued  in 
vain.  Whigs  and  Tories  were  equally  fixed  in  the  opinion  that 
the  liberality  of  Parliaments  had  been  the  chief  cause  of  the 
disasters  of  the  last  thirty  years;  that  to  the  liberality  of  the 
Parliament  of  IGGO  was  to  be  ascribed  the  misgovemment  of 
the  Cabal;  that  to  the  liberality  of  the  Parliament  of  1685  was 

•  Commons'  Journals,  March  28.  1690,  and  March  1.  and  March  20. 

••  Grey'fl  Debates,  March  27.  and  28.  1690. 

WILLIAM   AND   MAilY.  223 

to  be  ascribed  the  Declaration  of  Indulgence,  and  that  Ibe  Par-  chai*. 
liament  of  IGOO  would  be  inexcusable  if  it  did  not  profit  by  a— ^j^— 
long,  a  painful,  an  unvarj'ing  experience.  After  much  dispute 
a  compromise  was  made.  That  portion  of  the  excise  which  had 
been  settled  for  life  on  James,  and  which  was  estimated  at 
three  hundred  thousand  pounds  a  year,  was  settled  on  William 
and  Mary  for  their  joint  and  separate  lives.  It  was  supposed 
that,  with  the  hereditary  revenue,  and  with  three  hundred 
thousand  a  year  more  from  the  excise ,  their  Majesties  would 
have,  independent  of  parliamentary  control,  between  seven 
and  eight  hundred  thousand  a  year.  Out  of  this  income  was 
to  be  defrayed  the  charge  both  of  the  royal  household  and  of 
those  civil  offices  of  which  a  list  had  been  laid  before  the  House. 
This  income  was  therefore  called  the  Civil  List.  The  expenses 
of  the  royal  household  are  now  entirely  separated  from  the 
expenses  of  the  civil  government;  but,  by  a  whimsical  perver- 
sion, the  name  of  Civil  List  has  remained  attached  to  that 
portion  of  the  revenue  which  is  appropriated  to  the  expenses 
of  the  royal  household.  It  is  still  more  strange  that  several 
neighbouring  nations  should  have  thought  this  most  un- 
meaning of  all  names  worth  boiTowing.  Those  duties  of 
customs  which  had  been  settled  for  life  on  Charles  and  James 
successively,  and  which,  in  the  year  before  the  llevolution, 
had  yielded  six  hundred  thousand  pounds,  were  granted  to 
the  Crown  for  a  term  of  only  four  years.* 

William  was  by  no  means  well  pleased  with  this  arrange- 
ment. He  thought  it  unjust  and  ungrateful  in  a  people  whose 
liberties  he  had  saved  to  bind  him  over  to  his  good  behavioiu*. 
"The  gentlemen  of  England,"  he  said  to  Burnet,  "trusted  King 
James  who  was  an  enemy  of  their  religion  and  of  their  laws; 

•  Commons'  Jonrnala,  Mar.  28.  1690.  A  very  clear  and  exact  account 
of  the  way  in  which  the  revenue  was  settled  was  sent  by  Van  Citters  to  the 
Stales  General ,  April  {,•  1690. 


CHAP,  and  they  will  not  trust  me  by  whom  their  religion  and  their  laws 



•have  been  preserved."  Burnet  answered  very  properly  that 
there  was  no  mark  of  personal  confidence  which  His  Majesty 
was  not  entitled  to  demand,  but  that  this  question  was  not  a 
question  of  personal  confidence.  The  Estates  of  the  Realm 
wished  to  establish  a  general  principle.  They  wished  to  set  a 
precedent  which  might  secure  a  remote  posterity  against  evils 
such  as  the  indiscreet  liberality  of  former  Parliaments  had  pro- 
duced. "From  those  evils  Your  Majesty  has  delivered  this 
generation.  By  accepting  the  gift  of  the  Commons  on  the  terms 
on  which  it  is  offered  Your  Majesty  will  be  also  a  deliverer  of 
future  generations."  William  was  not  convinced ;  but  he  had 
too  much  wisdom  and  selfcommand  to  give  way  to  his  ill 
humour;  and  he  accepted  graciously  what  he  could  not  but  con- 
sider as  ungraciously  given.  * 
Provision  The  Civil  List  was  charged  with  an  annuity  of  twenty  thou- 
Princess  Band  pounds  to  the  Princess  of  Denmark,  in  addition  to  an  an- 
mark.  nuity  of  thirty  thousand  pounds  which  had  been  settled  on  her 
at  the  time  of  her  marriage.  This  arrangement  was  the  result 
of  a  compromise  which  had  been  effected  with  much  difficulty 
and  after  many  irritating  disputes.  The  King  and  Queen  had 
never,  since  the  commencement  of  their  reign,  been  on  very 
good  terms  with  their  sister.  That  William  should  have  been 
disliked  by  a  woman  who  had  just  sense  enough  to  perceive  that 
his  temper  was  sour  and  his  manners  repulsive,  and  who  was 
utterly  incapable  of  appreciating  his  higher  qualities,  is  not 
extraordinary.  But  Mary  was  made  to  be  loved.  So  lively  and 
intelligent  a  woman  could  not  indeed  derive  much  pleasure 
from  the  society  of  Anne,  who,  when  in  good  humour,  was 
meekly  stupid,  and,  when  in  bad  humour,  was  sulkily  stupid. 
Yet  the  Queen,  whose  kindness  had  endeared  her  to  her 
humblest  attendants,  would  hardly  have  made  an  enemy  of  one 

•  Burnet,  il.  48. 


whom  it  was  her  duty  and  her  interest  to  make  a  friend ,  had  not  cnxp. 
an  influence  strangely  potent  and  strangely  malignant  been  in-  '^^j  - 
cessantly  at  work  to  divide  the  Royal  House  against  itself.  The 
fondness  of  the  Princess  for  Lady  Marlborough  was  such  as,  in 
a  superstitious  age,  would  have  been  ascribed  to  some  talisman 
or  potion.  Not  only  had  the  friends,  in  their  confidential  inter- 
course with  each  other,  dropped  all  ceremony  and  all  titles, 
and  become  plain  Mrs.  Morley  and  plain  Mrs.  Freeman;  but 
even  Prince  George,  who  cared  as  much  for  the  dignity  of  his 
birth  as  he  was  capable  of  caring  for  any  thing  but  claret  and 
calvered  salmon,  submitted  to  be  Mr.  Morley.  The  Countess 
boasted  that  she  had  selected  the  name  of  Freeman  because  it 
was  peculiarly  suited  to  the  frankness  and  boldness  of  her  cha- 
racter; and,  to  do  her  justice,  it  was  not  by  the  ordinary  arts  of 
courtiers  that  she  established  and  long  maintained  her  despotic 
empire  over  the  feeblest  of  minds.  She  had  little  of  that  tact 
which  is  the  chai-acteristic  talent  of  her  sex:  she  was  far  too 
violent  to  flatter  or  to  dissemble:  but,  by  a  rare  chance,  she 
had  fallen  in  with  a  nature  on  which  dictation  and  contradiction 
acted  as  philtres.  In  this  grotesque  friendship  all  the  loyalty, 
the  patience ,  the  selfdevotion ,  was  on  the  side  of  the  mistress. 
The  whims,  the  haughty  airs,  the  fits  of  ill  temper,  were  on  the 
side  of  the  waiting  woman. 

Nothing  is  more  curious  than  the  relation  in  which  the  two 
ladies  stood  to  Mr.  Freeman,  as  they  called  Marlborough.  In 
foreign  countries  people  knew  in  general  that  Anne  was 
governed  by  the  Churcliills.  They  knew  also  that  the  man  who 
appeared  to  enjoy  so  large  a  share  of  her  favour  was  not  only  a 
great  soldier  and  politician,  but  also  one  of  the  finest  gentle- 
men of  his  time,  that  his  face  and  figure  were  eminently  hand- 
some, his  temper  at  once  bland  and  resolute,  his  manners  at 
once  engaging  and  noble.  Nothing  could  be  more  natural  than 
that  graces  and  accomplishments  like  his  should  win  a  female 
ilacnuliiij,  llislOTy,    K.  15, 


226  msTOET  OE  England. 

CHAP,  heart.  On  the  Continent  therefore  many  persons  imagined  that 
J^ he  was  Anne's  favoured  lover;  and  he  was  so  described  in  con- 
temporary French  libels  which  have  long  been  forgotten.  In 
England  this  calumny  never  found  credit  even  with  the  vulgar, 
and  is  nowhere  to  be  found  even  in  the  most  ribald  doggrel  that 
was  sung  about  our  streets.  In  truth  the  Princess  seems  never 
to  have  been  guilty  of  a  thought  inconsistent  with  her  conjugal 
vows.  To  her  Marlborough ,  with  all  his  genius  and  his  valour, 
his  beauty  and  his  grace ,  was  nothing  but  the  husband  of  her 
friend.  Direct  power  over  Her  Royal  Highness  he  had  none. 
He  could  influence  her  only  by  the  instrumentality  of  his  wife; 
and  his  wife  was  no  passive  instrument.  Though  it  is  impossible 
to  discover,  in  any  thing  that  she  ever  did ,  said  or  wrote,  any 
indication  of  superior  understanding,  her  fierce  passions  and 
strong  will  enabled  her  often  to  rule  a  husband  who  was  born  to 
rule  grave  senates  and  mighty  armies.  His  courage,  that 
courage  which  the  most  perilous  emergencies  of  war  only  made 
cooler  and  more  steady ,  failed  him  when  he  had  to  encounter 
his  Sarah's  ready  tears  and  voluble  reproaches,  the  poutings  of 
her  lip  and  the  tossings  of  her  head.  History  exhibits  to  us  few 
spectacles  more  remarkable  than  that  of  a  great  and  wise  man, 
who,  when  he  had  combined  vast  and  profound  schemes  of 
policy,  could  carry  them  into  effect  only  by  inducing  one  foolish 
woman,  who  was  often  unmanageable,  to  manage  another 
woman  who  was  more  foolish  still. 

In  one  point  the  Earl  and  the  Countess  were  perfectly 
agreed.  They  were  equally  bent  on  getting  money;  though, 
when  it  was  got,  he  loved  to  hoard  it,  and  she  was  not  unwilling 
to  spend  it.*    ITie  favour  of  the  Princess  they  both  regarded  as 

*  In  a  contemporary  lampoon  are  theso  lines: 
"Oh,  happy  couple!     In  their  life 
There  does  appear  no  sign  of  strife. 
They  do  agree  so  in  tlio  main, 
To  sacrifice  their  souls  for  gain." 

The  Female  Nine ,  1690. 



WlLLIAil   AM)   MARY.  227 

a  valuable  estate.  lu  her  father's  reign,  they  hud  begun  to  ciiap 
grow  rich  by  means  of  her  bounty.  She  was  naturally  inclined  - 
to  paisimony;  and,  even  when  she  was  on  the  throne,  her 
equipages  and  tables  were  by  no  means  sumptuous.*  It  might 
have  been  thought,  therefore,  that,  while  she  was  a  subject, 
thirty  thousand  a  year,  with  a  residence  in  the  palace,  would 
have  been  more  than  sufficient  for  all  her  wants.  There  were 
probably  not  in  the  kingdom  two  noblemen  possessed  of  such 
an  income.  But  no  income  would  satisfy  the  greediness  of  those 
who  governed  her.  She  repeatedly  contracted  debts  which 
James  repeatedly  discharged,  not  without  expressing  much 
surprise  and  displeasure. 

The  Revolution  opened  to  the  Churchills  a  new  and  bound- 
leas  prospect  of  gain.  The  whole  conduct  of  their  mistress  at 
the  great  crisis  had  proved  that  she  had  no  will ,  no  judgment, 
no  conscience,  but  theirs.  To  them  she  had  sacrificed  affec- 
tions, prejudices,  habits,  hiterests.  In  obedience  to  them,  she 
had  joined  in  the  conspiracy  against  her  father:  she  had  fled 
from  ^^'hitehall  in  the  depth  of  winter,  tlirough  ice  and  mire,  to 
a  hackney  coach:  she  had  taken  refuge  in  the  rebel  camp:  she 
Lad  consented  to  yield  her  place  in  the  order  of  succession  to 
the  Prince  of  Orange.  They  saw  with  pleasure  that  she,  over 
whom  they  possessed  such  boundless  influence ,  possessed  no 
common  influence  over  others.  Scarcely  had  the  llevolution 
been  accomplished  when  many  Tories ,  disliking  both  the  King 
who  had  been  driven  out  and  the  King  who  had  come  in ,  and 
doubting  whether  their  religion  had  more  to  fear  from  Jesuits 
or  from  Latitudinarians,  showed  a  strong  disposition  to  rally 
round  Anne.  Nature  had  made  her  a  bigot.  Such  was  the 
constitution  of  her  mind  that  to  the  religion  of  her  nursery  she 
could  not  but  adhere,  without  examination  and  without  doubt, 

•  Swift  mentiona  the  dcQcicncy  of  hospitality  and  magniflccnc*  in  her 
boaseholU.    Joariial  to  Stella,  Aiiguat  8.  1711. 


228  mSTORT   OF  ENGLAIH). 

CHAP,  till  she  was  laid  in  her  coffin.     In  the  court  of  her  father  she  had 


—^ —  been  deaf  to  all  that  could  be  ur<5ed  in  favour  of  transubstantia- 
tion  and  auricular  confession.  In  the  court  of  her  brother  in  law 
she  was  equally  deaf  to  all  that  could  be  urged  in  favour  of  a 
general  union  among  Protestants.  This  slowness  and  obstinacy 
made  her  important.  It  was  a  great  thing  to  be  the  only 
member  of  the  Royal  Family  who  regarded  Papists  and  Pres- 
byterians with  an  impartial  aversion.  While  a  large  party  was 
disposed  to  make  her  an  idol,  she  was  regarded  by  her  two 
artful  servants  merely  as  a  puppet.  They  knew  that  she  had  it 
in  her  power  to  give  serious  annoyance  to  the  government ;  and 
they  determined  to  use  this  power  in  order  to  extort  money, 
nominally  for  her,  but  really  for  themselves.  "VMiile  Marl- 
borough was  commanding  the  English  forces  in  the  Low  Coun- 
tries, the  execution  of  the  plan  was  necessarily  left  to  his  wife; 
and  she  acted,  not  as  he  would  doubtless  have  acted,  with  pru- 
dence and  temper,  but,  as  is  plain  even  from  her  own  narrative, 
with  odious  violence  and  insolence.  Indeed  she  had  passions 
to  gratify  from  which  he  was  altogether  free.  He ,  though  one 
of  the  most  covetous,  was  one  of  the  least  acrimonious  of  man- 
kind: but  malignity  was  in  hei-  a  stronger  passion  than  avarice. 
She  hated  easily:  she  hated  heartily;  and  she  hated  implacably. 
Among  the  objects  of  her  hatred  were  all  who  were  related  to 
her  mistress  either  on  the  paternal  or  on  the  maternal  side.  No 
person  who  had  a  natural  interest  in  the  Princess  could  observe 
without  uneasiness  the  strange  infatuation  which  made  her  the 
slave  of  an  imperious  and  reckless  termagant.  This  the  Countess 
well  knew.  In  her  view  the  Royal  Family  and  the  family  of 
Hyde,  however  they  might  differ  as  to  other  matters,  were 
leagued  against  her;  and  she  detested  them  all,  James,  "William 
and  Mary,  Clarendon  and  Rochester.  Now  Avas  the  time  to 
wreak  the  accumulated  spite  of  years.  It  was  not  enough  to 
obtain  a  great,  a  regal,  revenue  for  Anne.    That  revenue  must 



WILUAM   AHV   MAKY.  229 

be  obtained  by  means  which  would  wound  and  humble  those  chap 
whom  the  favourite  abhorred.  It  must  not  be  asked,  it  must- 
notbe  accepted,  as  a  mark  of  fiatemal  kindness,  but  demanded 
in  hostile  tones,  and  wrung  by  lurce  from  reluctant  hands.  No 
apphcation  was  made  to  the  King  and  Queen.  But  they  learned 
with  astonishment  that  Lady  Marlborough  was  indefatigable  in 
canvassing  the  Tory  members  of  Parliament,  that  a  Princess's 
party  was  forming,  that  tlie  House  of  Commons  would  be  moved 
to  settle  onHer  Koyal  Higliuess  a  vast  income  independent  of 
the  Crown.  Mary  asked  her  sister  what  these  proceedings 
meant.  "I  hear,"  said  Anne,  "that  my  friends  have  a  mind  to 
make  me  some  settlement."  It  is  said  that  the  Queen,  greatly 
hurt  by  an  expression  which  seemed  to  imply  that  she  and  her 
husband  were  not  among  her  sister's  friends,  replied  with  un- 
wonted sharpness,  "Of  what  friends  do  you  speak?  AMiat 
friends  have  you  except  the  King  and  meV"*  The  subject  was 
never  again  mentioned  between  the  sisters.  Mary  was  probably 
sensible  that  she  had  made  a  mistake  in  addressing  herself  to 
one  who  was  merely  a  passive  instrument  in  the  hands  of  others. 
An  attempt  was  made  to  open  a  negotiation  with  the  Countess. 
After  some  inferior  agents  had  expostulated  with  her  in  vain, 
Shrewsbury  waited  on  her.  It  might  have  been  expected  that 
his  intervention  would  have  been  successful:  for,  if  the  scan- 
dalous chronicle  of  those  times  could  be  trusted,  he  had  stood 
high,  too  high,  in  her  favour.**  He  was  authorised  by  the 
King  to  promise  that,  if  the  Princess  would  desist  from  soliciting 
the  members  of  the  House  of  Commons  to  support  her  cause, 
the  income  of  Her  Koyal  Highness  should  be  increased  from 
thirty  thousand  pounds  to  fifty  thousand.     The  Countess  flatly 

•  Duchcs3   of  Marlborough'a  Vindication.     But   tlie   Duclicss   was   so 
abandoned  a  liar,  ttiat  it  ia  Impossible  to  believe  a  word  that  slio  aays,  ex- 
cept when  she  accuses  herself, 
••  Sec  the  Female  Kiue. 



CHAP,  rejected  this  offer.  The  King's  word,  she  had  the  insolence  to 
-hint,  was  not  a  sufficient  security.  "I  am  confident,"  said 
Shrewsbury,  "that  His  Majesty  will  strictly  fulfil  his  engage- 
ments. If  he  breaks  them  I  wiU  not  serve  him  an  hour  longer." 
"That  may  be  very  honourable  in  you,"  answered  the  pertina- 
cious vixen,  "but  it  will  be  very  poor  comfort  to  the  Princess." 
Shrewsbury,  after  vainly  attempting  to  move  the  servant,  was 
at  length  admitted  to  an  audience  of  the  mistress.  Anne,  in 
language  doubtless  dictated  by  her  friend  Sarah,  told  him  that 
the  business  had  gone  too  far  to  be  stopped,  and  must  be  left 
to  the  decision  of  the  Commons.* 

The  truth  was  that  the  Princess's  prompters  hoped  to  obtain 
from  Parliament  a  much  larger  sum  than  was  offered  by  the 
King.  Nothing  less  than  seventy  thousand  a  year  would  con- 
tent them.  But  their  cupidity  overreached  itself.  The  House 
of  Commons  showed  a  great  disposition  to  gratify  Her  Koyal 
Highness.  But,  when  at  length  her  too  eager  adherents  ven- 
tured to  name  the  sum  which  they  wished  to  grant,  the  mur- 
murs were  loud.  Seventy  thousand  a  year  at  a  time  when  the 
necessary  expenses  of  the  State  were  daily  increasing,  when  the 
receipt  of  the  customs  was  daily  diminishing,  when  trade  was 
low,  when  eveiy  gentleman,  every  farmer,  was  retrenching 
something  from  the  charge  of  his  table  and  his  cellar!  The 
general  opinion  was  that  the  sum  which  the  King  was  under- 
stood to  be  willing  to  give  would  be  amply  sufficient.**  At  last 
something  was  conceded  on  both  sides.  The  Princess  was 
forced  to  content  herself  with  fifty  thousand  a  year;  and  Wil- 
liam agreed  that  this  sum  should  be  settled  on  her  by  Act  of 

*  The  Duclicss  of  Marlborough's  Vindication.  Witli  that  habitual  in- 
accuracy, which,  even  when  she  has  no  motive  for  lying,  makes  it  neces- 
sary to  read  every  word  written  by  her  with  suspicion,  she  creates  Shrewa- 
Imry  a  Dulse,  and  represents  herself  as  calling  him  "Your  Grace."  He  was 
not  made  a  Duke  till  1694. 

••  Commons'  Journals,  Decerubcr  17,  and  18.  1689. 

Wn>LIAM  AND   MAllT,  231 

I'arliament.     She  rewarded  the  seiTices  of  Lady  Marlborough    cnAP. 
with  a  pension  of  a  thousand  a  year*:  but  this  was  in  all  pro — ^r^ 
bability  a  very  small  part  of  what  the  Churchills  gained  by  the 

After  these  transactions  the  two  royal  sisters  continued 
during  many  months  to  live  on  terms  of  civility  and  even  of 
apparent  friendship.  But  Mary,  though  she  seems  to  have 
borne  no  malice  to  Anne,  undoubtedly  felt  against  Lady  Marl- 
borough as  much  resentment  as  a  verj'  gentle  heart  is  capable 
of  feeling.  Marlborough  had  been  out  of  England  during  a 
great  part  of  the  time  which  his  wife  had  spent  in  canvassing 
among  the  Tories,  and,  though  he  had  undoubtedly  acted 
in  concert  with  her,  had  acted,  as  usual,  with  temper 
and  decorum.  He  therefore  continued  to  receive  from  William 
many  marks  of  favour  which  were  unaccompanied  by  any  in- 
dication of  displeasure. 

In  the  debates  on  the  settling  of  the  revenue,  the  distinction 
between  AVhigs  and  Tories  does  not  appear  to  have  been  very 
clearly  marked.  In  truth ,  if  there  was  any  thing  about  which 
the  two  parties  were  agreed ,  it  was  the  expediency  of  granting 
the  customs  to  the  Cro'wn  for  a  time  not  exceeding  four  years. 
But  there  were  other  questions  which  called  forth  the  old  ani- 
mosity in  all  its  strength.  The  "WTiigs  were  now  a  minority, 
but  a  minority  formidable  in  numbers,  and  more  formidable  in 
ability.  They  carried  on  the  parliamentary'  war,  not  less  acri- 
moniously than  when  they  were  a  majority,  but  somewhat  more 
artfully.  They  brought  forward  several  motions,  such  as  no 
High  Churchman  could  well  support,  yet  such  as  no  servant  of 
William  and  'Mary  could  well  oppose.  The  Toiy  who  voted  for 
these  motions  would  nm  a  great  risk  of  being  pointed  at  as  a 
turncoat  by  the  sturdy  Cavaliers  of  his  county.     The  Torj'  who 

•  Vindication  of  the  Duchess  of  Marlborough. 


CHAP,  voted  against  those  motions  would  run  a  great  risk  of  being 

,690.  frowned  upon  at  Kensington, 
g.ji^g_         It  was  apparently  in  pursuance  of  this  policy  that  the  "WTiigs 

daring  j^id  on  the  table  of  the  House  of  Lords  a  bill  declaring  all  the 

the  Acts  _  "^ 

of  the  laws  passed  by  the  late  Parliament  to  be  valid  laws.  No  sooner 
ding  Par-  had  this  bill  been  read  than  the  controversy  of  the  preceding 
\aiid.  spring  was  renewed.  The  Whigs  were  joined  on  this  occasion 
by  almost  all  those  noblemen  who  were  connected  with  the 
government.  The  rigid  Tories,  with  Nottingham  at  their  head, 
professed  themselves  willing  to  enact  that  everj'  statute  passed 
in  1689  should  have  the  same  force  that  it  would  have  had  if  it 
had  been  passed  by  a  parliament  convoked  in  a  regular  manner: 
but  nothing  would  induce  them  to  acknowledge  that  an  as- 
sembly of  lords  and  gentlemen,  -who  had  come  together  with- 
out authority  from  the  Great  Seal,  was  constitutionally  a  Par- 
liament. Few  questions  seem  to  have  excited  stronger  passions 
than  the  question,  practically  altogether  unimportant,  whether 
the  bill  should  or  should  not  be  declaratory.  Nottingham,  al- 
ways upright  and  honourable ,  but  a  bigot  and  a  formalist ,  was 
on  this  subject  singularly  obstinate  and  unreasonable.  In  one 
debate  he  lost  his  temper,  forgot  the  decorum  which  in  general 
■he  strictly  observed,  and  nan-owly  escaped  being  committed  to 
the  custody  of  the  Black  Rod.*  After  much  wrangling,  the 
Whigs  carried  their  point  by  a  majority  of  seven.**  Many  peers 
signed  a  strong  protest  written  by  Nottingham.  In  this  protest 
thebiU,  which  was  indeed  open  to  verbal  criticism,  was  impo- 
litely described  as  being  neither  good  English  nor  good  sense. 
The  majority  passed  a  resolution  that  the  protest  should  be 
expunged;  and  against  this  resolution  Nottingham  and  his 
followers  again  protested.***    The  King  was  displeased  by  the 

•  Van  Cittcrs,  April  i\.  1690. 

**  Van  Cittera,  April  j',  ;  Narcissus  LuttrcU's  Diary. 
»♦*  Lords'  Journals,  April  8.  and  10.  1C90;  Burnet,  ii.  41. 

Wn.T.TAM    A>i'I)   MAKT.  233 

pertinacity  of  his  Secretary  of  State;  so  much  displeased  indeed    chap. 


that  Nottingham  declared  his  intention  of  resigning  the  Seals. 

but  the  dispute  was  soon  accommodated.  William  was  too  wise 
not  to  know  the  value  of  an  honest  man  in  a  dishonest  age.  The 
very  scrupulosity  which  made  Nottingham  a  mutineer  was  a 
security  that  he  would  never  be  a  traitor.* 

The  bill  went  down  to  the  Lower  House;  and  it  was  fully 
expected  that  the  contest  there  would  be  long  and  fierce:  but 
a  single  speech  settled  the  question.  Somers ,  with  a  force  and 
eloquence  which  surprised  even  an  audience  accustomed  to 
hear  him  with  pleasure,  exposed  the  absurdity  of  the  doctrine 
held  by  the  high  Tories.  "If  the  Convention,"  —  it  was  thus 
that  he  argued,  —  "was  not  a  Parliament,  how  can  we  be  a 
Parliament?  An  Act  of  Elizabeth  provides  that  no  person  shall 
sit  or  vote  in  this  House  till  he  has  taken  the  old  oath  of  supre- 
macy. Not  one  of  us  has  taken  that  oath.  Instead  of  it ,  we 
have  all  taken  the  new  oath  of  supremacy  which  the  late  Par- 
liament substituted  for  the  old  oath.  It  is  therefore  a  contra- 
diction to  say  that  the  Acts  of  the  late  Parliament  are  not  now 
valid,  and  yet  to  ask  us  to  enact  that  they  shall  henceforth  be 
valid.  For  either  they  already  are  so,  or  we  never  can  make 
them  so."  This  reasoning,  which  was  in  truth  as  unanswerable 
as  that  of  Euclid,  brought  the  debate  to  a  speedy  close.  The 
bill  passed  the  Commons  within  forty  eight  hours  after  it  had 
been  read  the  first  time.** 

This  was  the  only  victory-  won  by  the  WTiigs  during  the  Dcbat« 
whole  session.     They  complained  loudly  in  the  Lower  House  of  changes 
the  change  which  had  been  made  in  the  militar}-  government  of  '"ieu! 
the  city  of  London.     The  Tories,  conscious  of  their  strength,  ^'°'<'<^J' 

•  Van  Cittcrs,   \''"'  f '  1690, 

••  Commons' Journals,  April  8.  and  9.  1690;  Grey's  Debates;  Burnet, 
li.  42.  Van  Citters,  writing  on  the  8th,  mentions  that  a  great  Btrngglc  In 
the  Lower  liouso  was  expected. 


CHAP,  and  heated  by  resentment,  not  only  refused  to  censure  what 


had  been  done,  but  determined  to  express  publicly  and  formally 


their  gratitude  to  the  King  for  having  brought  in  so  many 
churchmen  and  turned  out  so  many  schismatics.  An  address  of 
thanks  Tvas  moved  by  Clarges,  member  for  Westminster,  who 
was  known  to  be  attached  to  Caermarthen.  "The  alterations 
which  have  been  made  in  the  City,"  said  Clarges,  "show  that 
His  Majesty  has  a  tender  care  of  us.  I  hope  that  he  will  make 
similar  alterations  in  every  county  of  the  realm."  The  minority 
struggled  hard.  "Will  you  thank  the  King,"  they  said,  "for 
putting  the  sword  into  the  hands  of  his  most  dangerous  ene- 
mies? Some  of  those  whom  he  has  been  advised  to  entrust 
with  military  command  have  not  yet  been  able  to  bring  them- 
selves to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  him.  Others  were  well 
known,  in  the  evil  days,  as  stanch  jurymen,  who  were  sure  to 
find  anExclusionist  guilty  on  any  evidence  or  no  evidence."  Nor 
did  the  WTiig  orators  refrain  from  using  those  topics  on  which 
all  factions  are  eloquent  in  the  hour  of  distress,  and  which  all 
factions  are  but  too  ready  to  treat  lightly  in  the  hour  of  pros- 
perity. "Let  us  not,"  they  said,  "pass  a  vote  which  conveys  a 
reflection  on  a  large  body  of  our  countiymen,  good  subjects, 
good  Protestants.  The  King  ought  to  be  the  head  of  his  whole 
people.  Let  us  not  make  him  the  head  of  a  party."  This  was 
excellent  doctrine;  but  it  scarcely  became  the  lips  of  men  who, 
a  few  weeks  before,  had  opposed  the  Indemnity  Bill  and  voted 
for  the  Sacheverell  Clause.  The  address  was  carried  by  a  hun- 
dred and  eighty  five  votes  to  a  hundred  and  thirty  six.* 
/^^j^,r,.  As  soon  as  the  numbers  had  been  announced,  the  minority, 
lion  Bill,  smarting  from  their  defeat,  brought  forward  a  motion  which 
caused  no  little  embarrassment  to  the  Tory  placemen.  The 
oath  of  allegiance,  the  Whigs  said,  was  drawn  in  terms  far  too 
lax.    It  might  exclude  from  public  employment  a  few  honest 

'  Commons*  Journals ,  April  24.  1690;  Grey's  Debates. 

WTLTJAM    AND    MARY.  235 

Jacobites  who  were  {generally  too  dull  to  be  mischievous;  but  it  chap. 
was  altogether  inefficient  a.s  a  means  of  binding  the  supple  and  ^^^^  - 
slippery  consciences  of  cunning  priests,  who,  while  affecting  to 
hold  the  Jesuits  in  abhorrence,  were  proficients  in  that  immoral 
casuistry  which  was  the  worst  part  of  Jesuitism.  Some  grave 
divines  had  openly  said,  others  had  even  dared  to  write,  that 
they  had  sworn  fealty  to  "William  in  a  sense  altogether  different 
from  that  in  which  they  had  sworn  fealty  to  James.  To  James 
they  had  plighted  the  entire  faith  which  a  loyal  subject  owes  to 
a  rightful  sovereign:  but,  when  they  promised  to  bear  true 
allegiance  to  "William,  they  meant  only  that  they  would  not, 
whilst  he  was  able  to  hang  them  for  rebelling  or  conspiring 
against  him,  run  any  risk  of  being  hanged.  None  could  wonder 
that  the  precepts  and  example  of  the  malecontent  clergy  should 
have  corrupted  the  malecontent  laity.  "WTien  Prebendaries 
and  Rectors  were  not  ashamed  to  avow  that  they  had  equi- 
vocated, in  the  very  act  of  kissing  the  New  Testament,  it  was 
hardly  to  be  expected  that  attorneys  and  taxgatherers  would  be 
more  scrupulous.  The  consequence  was  that  every  department 
swarmed  with  traitors;  that  men  who  ate  the  King's  bread,  men 
who  were  entrusted  with  the  duty  of  collecting  and  disbursing 
his  revenues,  of  victualling  his  ships,  of  clothing  his  soldiers, 
of  making  his  artillery  ready  for  the  field,  were  in  the  habit  of 
calling  him  an  usurper,  and  of  drinking  to  his  speedy  downfall. 
Could  any  government  be  safe  which  was  hated  and  betrayed 
by  its  own  servants?  And  was  not  the  English  government 
exposed  to  dangers  which,  even  if  all  its  servants  were  true, 
might  well  excite  serious  apprehensions?  A  disputed  suc- 
cession, war  with  France,  war  in  Scotland,  war  in  Ireland,  was 
not  all  this  enough  without  treachery  in  every  arsenal  and  in 
every  custom  house?  There  must  be  an  oath  drawn  in  language 
too  precise  to  be  explained  away,  in  language  which  no  Jacobite 
could  repeat  without  the  consciousnesss  that  he  was  perjuring 


236  msTOEY  OP  England. 

CHAP,  himself.  Though  the  zealots  of  indefeasible  hereditary  right 
-  had  in  general  no  objection  to  swear  allegiance  to  'William, 
they  would  probably  not  choose  to  abjure  James.  On  such 
grounds  as  these,  an  Abjuration  Bill  of  extreme  severity  was 
brought  into  the  House  of  Commons.  It  was  proposed  to  enact 
that  every  person  who  held  any  office,  civil,  military,  or  spiri- 
tual, should,  on  pain  of  deprivation,  solemnly  abjure  the  exiled 
King;  that  the  oath  of  abjuration  might  be  tendered  by  any 
justice  of  the  peace  to  any  subject  of  their  Majesties;  and  that, 
if  it  were  refused,  the  recusant  should  be  sent  to  prison,  and 
should  lie  there  as  long  as  he  continued  obstinate. 

The  severity  of  this  last  provision  was  generally  and  most 
justly  blamed.  To  turn  every  ignorant  meddling  magistrate 
into  a  state  inquisitor,  to  insist  that  a  plain  man,  who  lived 
peaceably,  who  obeyed  the  laws,  who  paid  his  taxes,  who  had 
never  held  and  who  did  not  expect  ever  to  hold  any  office,  and 
who  had  never  troubled  his  head  about  problems  of  political 
philosophy,  should  declare,  under  the  sanction  of  an  oath,  a 
decided  opinion  on  a  point  about  which  the  most  learned  Doc- 
tors of  the  age  had  written  whole  libraries  of  controversial 
books,  and  to  send  him  to  rot  in  a  gaol  if  he  could  not  bring 
himself  to  swear,  would  surely  have  been  the  height  of  tyranny. 
The  clause  which  required  public  functionaries  to  abjure  the 
deposed  King  was  not  open  to  the  same  objections.  Yet  even 
against  this  clause  some  weighty  arguments  were  urged.  A 
man,  it  was  said,  who  has  an  honest  heart  and  a  sound  under- 
standing is  sufficiently  bound  by  the  present  oath.  Every  such 
man,  when  he  swears  to  be  faithful  and  to  bear  true  allegiance 
to  King  William,  does,  by  necessary  implication,  abjuieKing 
James.  There  may  doubtless  be  among  the  servants  of  the 
State,  and  even  among  the  ministers  of  the  Chuixh,  some 
persons  who  have  no  sense  of  honour  or  religion,  and  who  are 
ready  to  forswear  themselves  for  lucre.    There  may  be  others 


WILLIAM   AJU)   MART.  237 

who  have  contracted  the  pernicious  habit  of  quihblini^  fiway  the  ch^p. 
most  Bacred  obligations  of  morality,  and  who  have  convinced  - 
themselves  that  they  can  innocently  make,  with  a  mental  reser- 
vation, a  promise  which  it  would  be  sinful  to  make  without  such 
a  reservation.  Against  these  two  classes  of  Jacobites  it  is  true 
that  the  present  test  affords  no  security.  But  will  the  new  test, 
will  any  test,  be  more  efficacious?  Will  a  person  who  has  no 
conscience,  or  a  person  whose  conscience  can  be  set  at  rest  by 
immoral  sophistry,  hesitate  to  repeat  any  phrase  that  you  can 
dictate?  The  former  will  kiss  the  book  without  any  scruple  at 
all.  The  scruples  of  the  latter  will  be  ver}'  easily  removed.  He 
now  swears  allegiance  to  one  King  with  a  mental  reservation. 
He  will  then  abjure  the  other  King  with  a  mental  reservation. 
Do  not  flatter  yourselves  that  the  ingenuity  of  lawgivers  will 
ever  devise  an  oath  which  the  ingenuity  of  casuists  will  not 
evade.  What  indeed  is  the  value  of  any  oath  in  such  a  matter? 
Among  the  many  lessons  which  the  troubles  of  the  last  genera- 
tion have  left  us  none  is  more  plain  than  this,  that  no  form  of 
words,  however  precise,  no  imprecation,  however  awful,  ever 
saved,  or  ever  will  save,  a  government  from  destruction.  Was 
not  the  Solemn  League  and  Covenant  burned  by  the  common 
hangman  amidst  the  huzzas  of  tens  of  thousands  who  had  them- 
selves subscribed  it?  Among  the  statesmen  and  warriors  who 
bore  the  chief  part  in  restoring  Charles  the  Second,  how  many 
were  there  who  had  not  repeatedly  abjured  him?  Nay,  is  it 
not  well  known  that  some  of  those  persons  boastfully  affirmed 
that,  if  they  had  not  abjured  him,  they  never  could  have  re- 
stored him? 

The  debates  were  sharp ;  and  the  issue  during  a  short  time 
seemed  doubtful:  for  some  of  the  Tories  who  were  in  office  were 
unwilling  to  give  a  vote  which  might  be  thought  to  indicate  that 
they  were  lukewarm  in  the  cause  of  the  King  whom  they  sers'ed. 
William,  however,  took  care  to  let  it  be  understood  that  he 

238  BiSXOliY  OS  ENGLAJS^D. 

CHAP,  had  no  wish  to  impose  a  new  test  on  his  subjects.    A  few  words 
•  from  him  decided  the  event  of  the  conflict.    The  bill  was  re- 



jected  thirty  six.  hours  after  it  had  been  brought  in  by  a  hundi'ed 
and  ninety  two  votes  to  a  hundred  and  sixty  five.* 

Even  after  this  defeat  the  Whigs  pertinaciously  returned  to 
the  attack.  Having  failed  in  one  House  they  renewed  the  battle 
in  the  other.  Five  days  after  the  Abjuration  Bill  had  been 
thrown  out  in  the  Commons,  another  Abjuration  Bill,  some- 
what milder ,  but  still  very  severe ,  was  laid  on  the  table  of  the 
Lords.**  WTiat  was  now  proposed  was  that  no  person  should 
sit  in  either  House  of  Parliament  or  hold  any  office,  civil,  mili- 
tary, or  judicial,  without  making  a  declaration  that  he  would 
stand  by  William  and  Mary  against  James  and  James's  ad- 
herents. Every  male  in  the  kingdom  who  had  attained  the  age 
of  sixteen  was  to  make  the  same  declaration  before  a  certain 
day.  If  he  failed  to  do  so  he  was  to  pay  double  taxes  and  to  be 
incapable  of  exercising  the  elective  franchise. 

On  the  day  fixed  for  the  second  reading,  the  King  came 
down  to  the  House  of  Peers.  He  gave  his  assent  in  form  to* 
several  laws,  unrobed,  took  his  seat  on  a  chair  of  state  which 
had  been  placed  for  him ,  and  listened  with  much  interest  to  the 
debate.  To  the  general  surprise ,  two  noblemen  who  had  been 
eminently  zealous  for  the  Revolution  spoke  against  the  pro- 
posed test.     Lord  Wharton ,  a  Puritan  who  had  fought  for  the 

•  Commons' Jonrnals,  April  24,  25,  and  26;  Grey's  Debates;  Narcissna 
Luttrell's  Diary.  Narcissus  is  unusually  angry.  He  calls  the  bill  "a  per- 
fect trick  of  the  fanatics  to  turn  out  the  Bishops  and  most  of  the  Church  of 
England  Clergy."  In  a  Whig  pasquinade  entitled  "A  speech  intended  to 
have  been  spoken  on  the  Triennial  Bill,  on  Jan.  28."  169f ,  the  King  is  said 
to  have  "browbeaten  the  Abjuration  Bill." 

**  Lords' Journals,  May  1.  1690,  This  Bill  Is  among  the  Archives  of 
the  House  of  Lords.  Burnet  confounds  It  with  the  bill  which  the  Commons 
had  rejected  In  the  preceding  week.  Kalph,  who  saw  that  Burnet  had  com- 
mitted a  blunder,  but  did  not  see  what  the  blunder  was,  has,  in  trying  to 
correct  it,  added  several  blunders  of  his  own;  and  the  Oxford  editor  of 
Burnet  has  been  misled  by  Kalph. 


WILUA^  AJSI>   MAiil.  239 

Long  Parliament,  said,  with  amusing  simplicity,  that  he  was  a  chap. 
very  old  man,  that  he  had  lived  through  troubled  times,  that- 
he  had  taken  a  great  many  oaths  in  his  day,  and  that  he  was 
afraid  that  he  had  not  kept  them  all.  He  prayed  that  the  sin 
might  not  be  laid  to  his  charge;  and  he  declared  that  he  could 
not  consent  to  lay  any  more  snares  for  his  o^^'n  soul  and  for  the 
souls  of  his  neighbours.  The  Eai-1  of  Macclesfield,  the  captain 
of  the  English  volunteers  who  had  accompanied  William  from 
Helvoetsluys  to  Torbay,  declared  that  he  was  much  in  the  same 
case  with  Lord  AVliarton.  Marlborough  supported  the  bill.  He 
wondered,  he  said,  that  it  should  be  opposed  by  Macclesfield, 
who  had  borne  so  preeminent  a  part  in  the  Revolution.  Mac- 
clesfield, irritatcdby  the  charge  of  inconsistency,  retorted  with 
terrible  severity:  "The  noble  Earl,"  he  said,  "exaggerates  the 
share  which  I  had  in  the  deliverance  of  our  country.  1  was  ready, 
indeed,  and  always  shall  be  ready,  to  venture  my  life  in  defence 
of  her  laws  and  liberties.  But  there  are  lengths  to  which,  even 
for  the  sake  of  her  laws  and  liberties,  I  could  never  go.  I  only 
rebelled  against  a  bad  King:  there  were  those  who  did  much 
more."  Marlborough,  though  not  easily  discomposed,  could 
not  but  feel  the  edge  of  this  sarcasm:  \\''illiam  looked  dis- 
pleased; and  the  aspect  of  the  whole  House  was  troubled  and 
gloomy.  It  was  resolved  by  fifty  one  votes  to  forty  that  the  bill 
should  be  committed;  and  it  was  committed,  but  never  re- 
ported. After  many  hard  struggles  between  the  AVTiigs  headed 
by  Shrewsbury  and  the  Tories  headed  by  Caermarthen ,  it  was 
so  much  mutilated  that  it  retained  little  more  than  its  name, 
and  did  not  seem  to  those  who  had  introduced  it  to  be  worth 
any  further  contest.* 

•  Lords*  Journals,  May  2.  and  3.  1C90;  Van  Citters,  May  2.;  Nar- 
cissus Luttrell's  Diary;  liurnct,  ii.  44.;  and  Lord  Dartmouth's  note.  The 
cliangcs  made  by  the  Committee  may  be  seou  on  the  bill  in  the  Archives 
of  the  House  of  Lords. 


240  msTOEX  OF  England. 

CHAP.        The  discorafitiire  of  the  Whigs  was  completed  by  a  commn- 
-j^ —  nication  from  the  King.     Caermarthen  appeared  in  the  House 
Act  of     of  Lords  bearing  in  his  hand  a  parchment  signed  by  William. 
It  -was  an  Act  of  Grace  for  political  offences. 

Between  an  Act  of  Grace  originating  with  the  Sovereign  and 
an  Act  of  Indemnity  originating  with  the  Estates  of  the  Realm 
there  are  some  remarkable  distinctions.  An  Act  of  Indemnity 
passes  through  all  the  stages  through  which  other  laws  pass, 
and  may,  during  its  progress,  be  amended  by  either  House, 
An  Act  of  Grace  is  received  with  peculiar  marks  of  respect,  is 
read  only  once  by  the  Lords  and  once  by  the  Commons,  and 
must  be  either  rejected  altogether  or  accepted  as  it  stands.* 
William  had  not  ventured  to  submit  such  an  Act  to  the  pre- 
ceding Parliament.  But  in  the  new  Parliament  he  was  certain 
of  a  majority.  The  minority  gave  no  trouble.  The  stubborn 
spirit  which  had ,  during  two  sessions ,  obstructed  the  progress 
of  the  Bill  of  Indemnity  had  been  at  length  broken  by  defeats 
and  humiliations.  Both  Houses  stood  up  uncovered  while  the 
Act  of  Grace  was  read,  and  gave  their  sanction  to  it  without  one 
dissentient  voice. 

There  would  not  have  been  this  unanimity  had  not  a  few 
great  criminals  been  excluded  from  the  benefits  of  the  amnesty. 
Foremost  among  them  stood  the  surviving  members  of  the  High 
Court  of  Justice  which  had  sate  on  Charles  the  First.  With 
these  ancient  men  were  joined  the  two  nameless  executioners 
who  had  done  their  office,  with  masked  faces,  on  the  scaff'old 
before  the  Banqueting  House.  None  knew  who  they  were ,  or 
of  what  rank.  It  was  probable  that  they  had  been  long  dead. 
Yet  it  was  thought  necessary  to  declare  that,  if  even  now ,  after 
the  lapse  of  forty  one  years ,  they  should  be  discovered ,  they 
would  still  be  liable  to  the  punishment  of  their  great  crime. 

•  These  distinctions  were  much  discussed  at  the  time.  Van  Citters, 
May  JJ.  1690. 


WnXTAM   ANT)   MART.  241 

Perhaps  it  would  hardly  have  been  thought  neccsaarj'  to  men-  chap 
tion  these  men,  if  the  animosities  of  the  preceding  generation  - 
had  not  been  rekindled  by  the  recent  appearance  of  Ludlow  in 
England.  About  thirty  of  the  agents  of  the  tyranny  of  James 
were  left  to  the  law.  With  these  exceptions,  all  political 
offences,  committed  before  the  day  on  which  the  royal  signature 
was  affixed  to  the  Act,  were  covered  with  a  general  oblivion.* 
I'.ven  the  criminals  who  were  by  name  excluded  had  little  to 
fear.  Many  of  them  were  in  foreign  countries;  and  those  who 
were  in  England  were  Avell  assured  that,  unless  they  committed 
some  new  fault,  they  would  not  be  molested. 

The  Act  of  Grace  the  nation  owed  to  "William  alone;  and  it 
is  one  of  his  noblest  and  purest  titles  to  renown.  From  the 
commencement  of  the  civil  troubles  of  the  seventeenth  century 
dovm  to  the  Revolution ,  every  victory  gained  by  either  party 
had  been  followed  by  a  sanguinary  proscription.  WTien  the 
Roundheads  triumphed  over  the  Cavaliers,  when  the  Cavaliers 
triumphed  over  the  Roundheads,  when  the  fable  of  the  Popish 
plot  gave  the  ascendency  to  the  Whigs,  when  the  detection  of 
the  Rye  House  Plot  transferred  the  ascendency  to  the  Tories, 
blood,  and  more  blood,  and  still  more  blood  had  flowed.  Every 
great  explosion  and  every  great  recoil  of  public  feeling  had  been 
accompanied  by  severities  which,  at  the  time,  the  predominant 
faction  loudly  applauded,  but  which,  on  a  calm  review,  history 
and  posterity  have  condemned.  No  wise  and  humane  man, 
whatever  may  be  his  political  opinions,  now  mentions  without 
reprehension  the  death  either  of  Laud  or  of  Vane,  either  of 
Stafford  or  of  Russell.  Of  the  alternate  butcheries  the  last  and 
the  worst  is  that  which  is  inseparably  associated  with  the  names 
of  James  and  Jeffreys.  But  it  assuredly  would  not  have  been 
the  last,  perhaps  it  might  not  have  been  the  worst,  if  William 
had  not  had  the  virtue  and  the  firmness  resolutely  to  withstand 

*  Stat.  2  W.  .t  M,  SPSS.  1.  c.  10. 
ilacaulatj,  llislonj.  V.  IB 


242  msToiiY  OF  englajsd. 

CHAP,  theimportunity  of  his  most  zealous  adherents.  These  men  were 
-bent  on  exacting  a  terrible  retribution  for  all  they  had  under- 
gone during  seven  disastrous  years.  The  scaffold  of  Sidney,  the 
gibbet  of  Cornish,  the  stake  at  which  Elizabeth  Gaunt  had 
perished  in  the  flames  for  the  crime  of  harbouring  a  fugitive,  the 
porches  of  the  Somersetshire  churches  surmounted  by  the  skulls 
and  quarters  of  murdered  peasants,  the  holds  of  those  Jamaica 
ships  from  which  every  day  the  carcass  of  some  prisoner  dead  of 
thirst  and  foul  air  had  been  flung  to  the  sharks,  all  these  things 
were  fresh  in  the  memory  of  the  party  which  the  Revolution  had 
made ,  for  a  time ,  dominant  in  the  State.  Some  chiefs  of  that 
party  had  redeemed  their  necks  by  paying  heavy  ransom.  Others 
had  languished  long  in  Newgate.  Others  had  starved  and 
shivered,  winter  after  winter,  in  the  garrets  of  Amsterdam.  It 
was  natural  that  in  the  day  of  their  power  and  prosperity  they 
should  wish  to  inflict  some  part  of  what  they  had  suffered. 
During  a  whole  year  they  pursued  their  scheme  of  revenge. 
They  succeeded  in  defeating  Indemnity  Bill  after  Indemnity 
Bill.  Nothing  stood  between  them  and  then-  victims,  but  Wil- 
liam's immutable  resolution  that  the  glory  of  the  great  deli- 
verance which  he  had  wrought  should  not  be  sullied  by  cruelty. 
His  clemency  was  peculiar  to  himself.  It  was  not  the  clemency 
of  an  ostentatious  man,  or  of  a  sentimental  man,  or  of  an  easy 
tempered  man.  It  was  cold,  unconciliating,  inflexible.  It  pro- 
duced no  fine  stage  effects.  It  drew  on  him  the  savage  invectives 
of  those  whose  malevolent  passions  he  refused  to  satisfy.  It 
won  for  him  no  gratitude  from  those  who  owed  to  him  fortune, 
liberty  and  life.  While  the  violent  Whigs  railed  at  his  lenity, 
the  agents  of  the  fallen  government,  as  soon  as  they  found 
themselves  safe ,  instead  of  acknowledging  their  obligations  to 
him, reproached  him  in  insulting  language  with  the  mercy  which 
he  had  extended  to  them.  His  Act  of  Grace ,  they  said ,  had 
completely  refuted  his  Declaration.    Was  it  possible  to  believe 

«lLl,iAM    AJ<1>    MAilY.  243 

that,  if  there  had  been  any  truth  in  the  tliarges  which  he  had    chap. 



brought  against  the  late  government,  he  would  have  granted 
impunity  to  the  guilty?  It  was  now  acknowledged  by  himself, 
under  his  own  hand,  that  the  stories  by  which  he  and  his  friends 
had  deluded  the  nation  and  driven  away  the  royal  family  were 
mere  calumnies  devised  to  sene  a  turn.  The  turn  had  been 
served;  and  the  accusations  by  which  he  had  inflamed  the  public 
mind  to  madness  were  coolly  withdrawn.*  But  none  of  these 
things  moved  him.  He  had  done  well.  He  had  risked  his  po- 
pularity with  men  who  had  been  his  warmest  admirers ,  in  order 
to  give  repose  and  security  to  men  by  whom  his  name  was  never 
mentioned  without  a  curse.  Nor  had  he  conferred  a  less  benefit 
on  those  whom  he  had  protected.  If  he  had  saved  one  faction 
from  a  proscription,  he  had  saved  the  other  from  the  reaction 
which  such  a  proscription  would  inevitably  have  produced.  If 
his  people  did  not  justly  appreciate  his  policy,  so  much  the  worse 
for  them.  He  had  discharged  his  duty  by  them.  He  feared  no 
obloquy;  and  he  wanted  no  thanks. 

On  the  twentieth  of  May  the  Act  of  Grace  was  passed.    The  J.^"  ^"• 

•'  _    _  '  liameiit 

King  then  informed  the  Houses  that  his  visit  to  Ireland  could  i>ro- 
no  longer  be  delayed,  that  he  had  therefore  determined  to 
prorogue  them,  and  that,  unless  some  unexpected  emergency 
made  their  advice  and  assistance  necessary  to  him,  he  should 
not  call  them  again  from  their  homes  till  the  next  winter. 
"Then,"  he  said,  "I  hope,  by  the  blessing  of  God,  we  shall 
have  a  happy  meeting." 

The  Parliament  had  passed  an  Act  providing  that,  whenever 
he  should  go  out  of  England ,  it  should  be  lawful  for  Mary  to 
administer  the  government  of  the  kingdom  in  his  name  and  her 
own.  It  was  added  that  he  should  nevertheless,  during  his 
absence,  retain  all  his  authority.     Some  objections  were  made 

•  Roger  North  was  one  of  the  many  malecontenta  who  were  never  tired 
of  harping  on  tliis  airing. 



CHAP,  to  this  arrangement.    Here,  it  was  said,  were  two  supreme 
■     powers  in  one  State.     A  public  functionary  might  receive 


diametrically  opposite  orders  from  the  King  and  the  Queen,  and 
might  not  know  which  to  obey.  The  objection  was ,  beyond  all 
doubt,  speculatively  just ;  but  there  was  such  perfect  confidence 
and  affection  between  the  royal  pair  that  no  practical  incon- 
venience was  to  be  apprehended.  * 
Prepara-  As  far  as  Ireland  was  concerned ,  the  prospects  of  William 
tbe^flrst'  were  much  more  cheering  than  they  had  been  a  few  months 
^"'  earlier.  The  activity  with  which  he  had  personally  urged 
forward  the  preparations  for  the  next  campaign  had  produced 
an  extraordinary  effect.  The  nerves  of  the  government  were  new 
strung.  In  every  department  of  the  military  administration 
the  influence  of  a  vigorous  mind  was  perceptible.  Abundant 
supplies  of  food,  clothing  and  medicine,  very  different  in 
quality  from  those  which  Shales  had  furnished,  were  sent  across 
Saint  George's  Channel.  A  thousand  baggage  waggons  had 
been  made  or  collected  with  great  expedition;  and,  during 
some  weeks,  the  road  between  London  and  Chester  was  covered 
with  them.  Great  numbers  of  recnaits  were  sent  to  fill  the 
chasms  which  pestilence  had  made  in  the  English  ranks.  Fresh 
regiments  from  Scotland,  Cheshire,  Lancashire,  and  Cumberland 
had  landed  in  the  Bay  of  Belfast.  The  uniforms  and  arms  of 
the  new  comers  clearly  indicated  the  potent  influence  of  the 
master's  eye.  With  the  British  battalions  were  interspersed 
several  hardy  bands  of  German  and  Scandinavian  mercenaries. 
Before  the  end  of  May  the  English  force  in  Ulster  amounted 
to  thirty  thousand  fighting  men.  A  few  more  troops  and  an 
immense  quantity  of  military  stores  were  on  board  of  a  fleet 
which  lay  in  the  estuary  of  the  Dee,  and  which  was  ready  to 
weigh  anchor  as  soon  as  the  King  was  on  board.** 

•  Stat.  2  W.  &M.  seas.  1.  c.  6.;   Grey's  Debates,  April  29.,  May  1.  6, 
6,  7.   1690. 

••  Story'8  Impartial  History,  Narcissus  Luttreli's  Diary. 

WUJOAil  AKi)   MAUIT.  2-15 

James  ought  lo  have  made  an  equally  good  use  of  the  time  chap. 
during  -which  his  army  had  been  m  winter  quarters.  Strict— j^^^ — 
discipline  and  regular  drilling  might,  in  the  interval  between  Admini- 
November  and  May,  have  turned  the  athletic  and  enthusiastic  oM«mej 
peasants  who  were  assembled  under  his  standard  into  good  »'^"^'"'' 
soldiers.  But  the  opportunity  was  lost.  The  Court  of  DubUn 
was,  during  that  season  of  inaction,  busied  with  dice  and  claret, 
love  letters  and  challenges.  The  aspect  of  the  capital  was  indeed 
not  very  brilliant.  The  whole  number  of  coaches  which  could 
be  mustered  there,  those  of  the  King  and  of  the  French  Legation 
included,  did  not  amount  to  forty.*  But  though  there  was  little 
splendour  there  was  much  dissoluteness.  Grave  Roman  Catho- 
lics shook  their  heads  and  said  that  the  Castle  did  not  look  like 
the  palace  of  a  King  who  gloried  in  being  the  champion  of  the 
Church.**  The  military  administration  was  as  deplorable  as 
ever.  The  cavalry  indeed  was,  by  the  exertions  of  some  gallant 
officers ,  kept  in  a  high  state  of  efficiency.  But  a  regiment  of 
infantry  differed  in  nothing  but  name  from  a  large  gang  of 
Rapparees.  Indeed  a  gang  of  llapparees  gave  less  annoyance 
to  peaceable  citizens,  and  more  annoyance  to  the  enemy,  than 
a  regiment  of  infantry.  Avaux  strongly  represented,  in  a  memo- 
rial which  he  delivered  to  James,  the  abuses  which  made  the 
Irish  foot  a  curse  and  a  scandal  to  Ireland.  "Whole  companies, 
said  the  ambassador,  quit  their  coloiurs  on  the  line  of  march 
and  wander  to  right  and  left  pillaging  and  destroying:  the 
soldier  takes  no  care  of  his  arms:  the-  officer  never  troubles 
himself  to  ascertain  whether  the  arms  are  in  good  order:  the 

•  Avaux,  Jon.  i|.  1690. 

«*  Macaria)  Excidium.  This  most  curious  work  has  been  recently 
edited  with  great  care  and  dillpcnco  by  Mr.  O'Callaglian.  I  owe  bo  much 
to  his  Icarnint;  and  industry  tliat  I  most  readily  excuse  the  national  par- 
tiality which  sometimes,  I  cannot  but  think,  perverts  his  Judgment.  When 
I  quote  the  Macaria)  Excidium,  I  always  quote  the  Latin  text.  The  English 
version  Is,  I  am  convinced,  merely  a  translation  from  the  Latin,  and  a 
very  careless  and  imperfect  translation. 



CHAP,  consequence  is  that  one  man  in  every  three  has  lost  his  musket, 
^^'  and  that  another  man  in  every  three  has  a  musket  that  will  not 
go  off.  Avaux  adjured  the  King  to  prohibit  marauding,  to 
give  orders  that  the  troops  should  be  regularly  exercised ,  and 
to  punish  every  officer  who  suffered  his  men  to  neglect  their 
weapons  and  accoutrements.  If  these  things  were  done,  His 
Majesty  might  hope  to  have,  in  the  approaching  spring,  an 
army  with  which  the  enemy  would  be  unable  to  contend.  This 
was  good  advice :  but  James  was  so  far  from  taking  it  that  he 
would  hardly  listen  to  it  with  patience.  Before  he  had  heard 
eight  lines  read  he  flew  into  a  passion  and  accused  the 
ambassador  of  exaggeration.  "This  paper.  Sir,"  said  Avaux, 
"  is  not  written  to  be  published.  It  is  meant  solely  for  Your 
Majesty's  information;  and,  in  a  paper  meant  solely  for  Your 
Majesty's  information,  flattery  and  disguise  would  be  out  of 
place :  but  I  will  not  persist  in  reading  what  is  so  disagreeable." 
"Go  on,"  said  James  very  angrily;  "I  will  hear  the  whole." 
He  gradually  became  calmer,  took  the  memorial,  and  promised 
to  adopt  some  of  the  suggestions  which  it  contained.  But  his 
promise  was  soon  forgotten.  * 

His  financial  administration  was  of  a  piece  with  his  military 
administration.  His  one  fiscal  resource  was  robbeiy,  direct  or 
indirect.  Every  Protestant  who  had  remained  in  any  part  of 
the  three  southern  provinces  of  Ireland  was  robbed  directly, 
by  the  simple  process  of  taking  money  out  of  his  strong  box, 
drink  out  of  his  cellars,  fuel  from  his  turf  stack,  and  clothes 
from  his  wardrobe.  He  was  robbed  indirectly  by  a  new  issue  of 
counters,  smaller  in  size  and  baser  in  material  than  any  which 
had  yet  borne  the  image  and  superscription  of  James.  Even 
brass  had  begun  to  be  scarce  at  Dublin ;  and  it  was  necessary 
to  ask  assistance  from  Lewis,  who  chai-itably  bestowed  on  his 

•Avaux,  Nov.  }|.  1689. 

ranee  to 

WTLUAM    AND   MAKT.  247 

ally  an  old  cracked  piece  of  cannon  to  be  coined  into  crowns    chap. 
and  shillings.*  -  n^o  ~ 

But  the  French  king  had  determined  to  send  over  succours  An  .m- 
of  a  very  different  kind.  He  proposed  to  take  into  his  own  fo'Jc^ 
service,  and  to  form  by  the  best  discipline  then  kno\\Ti  in  the""' '""" 
world,  four  Irish  regiments.  They  were  to  be  commanded  by 
Macarthy ,  who  had  been  severely  wounded  and  taken  prisoner 
at  Newton  Butler.  His  wounds  had  been  healed;  and  he  had 
regained  his  liberty  by  violating  his  parole.  This  disgraceful 
breach  of  faith  he  had  made  more  disgraceful  by  paltry  tricks 
and  sophistical  excuses  which  would  have  become  a  Jesuit 
better  than  a  gentleman  and  a  soldier.  Lewis  was  willing  that 
the  Irish  regiments  should  be  sent  to  him  in  rags  and  unarmed, 
and  insisted  only  that  the  men  should  be  stout,  and  that  the 
officers  should  not  be  bankrupt  traders  and  discarded  lacqueys, 
but,  if  possible,  men  of  good  family  who  had  seen  service. 
In  return  for  these  troops,  who  were  in  number  not  quite  four 
thousand,  he  undertook  to  send  to  Ireland  between  seven  and 
eight  thousand  excellent  French  infantry,  who  were  likely  in  a 
day  of  battle  to  be  of  more  use  than  all  the  kernes  of  Leinster, 
Munster  and  Connaught  together, 


Dec    26 

•  Louvois  writes  to  Avanx,        '      "    ICJJ:    "  Commo  lo  Roy  a  vcn  par 

vos  lettres  que  le  Roy  d'Angleterrc  craignoit  do  manqucr  de  culvrc  pour 
faire  do  la  monnoye,  Sa  Majesty  a  donnd  ordre  quo  Ton  mist  8ur  le  basti- 
ment  qui  portcra  cctte  Icttro  une  pibcc  de  canon  du  calibre  de  deux  qui  est 
dventtfe  ,  de  laquelle  ccux  qui  travaillcnt  i  la  monnoye  du  Roy  d'Angleterrc 
ponrront  se  sorvir  pour  coutinucr  k  fiiire  dc  la  monnoye." 

"  Louvois  to  Avaux,  Nov.  -f^.  1689.  The  force  sent  by  Lewis  to  Ire- 
land appears  by  tlie  lists  at  the  French  War  Office  to  have  amounted  to 
seven  ttiousand  two  hundred  and  ninety  one  men  of  all  ranks.  At  tho 
French  War  Office  is  a  letter  from  Marslial  d'Estrdes  who  saw  the  four 
Irish  regiments  soon  after  they  had  landed  at  Brest.  He  describes  tJieni  as 
"mal  chausstfs,  mal  vCtus,  et  n'ayant  point  d'uniforme  dans  leurs  habits, 
si  ce  n'est  qu'ils  sont  tons  fort  mauvais."  A  very  exact  account  of 
Macarthy'a  breach  of  parole  will  bo  found  in  Mr.  O'Callaglian's  History  of 
the  Irish  Brigades.  I  am  aorry  that  a  writer  to  whom  I  owe  so  much  BhouM 


248  HlS'IOliY   OJ?  BJNGLAJSD. 

CHAP.  One  great  error  he  committed.  The  anny  which  he  was 
-  Bending  to  assist  James ,  though  small  indeed  when  compared 
with  the  army  of  Flanders  or  with  the  army  of  the  Rhine,  was 
destined  for  a  service  on  which  the  fate  of  Europe  might  de- 
pend, and  ought  therefore  to  have  been  commanded  by  a 
general  of  eminent  abilities.  There  was  no  want  of  such 
generals  in  the  French  service.  But  James  and  his  Queen 
begged  hard  for  Lauzun,  and  carried  this  point  against  the 
strong  representations  of  Avaux,  against  the  advice  of  Louvois, 
and  against  the  judgment  of  Lewis  himself. 

When  Lauzun  went  to  the  cabinet  of  Louvois  to  receive  in- 
structions, the  wise  minister  held  language  which  showed  how 
little  confidence  he  felt  in  the  vain  and  eccentric  knight  errant. 
"Do  not,  for  God's  sake,  suffer  yourself  to  be  hurried  away  by 
your  desire  of  fighting.  Put  all  your  glory  in  tiring  the 
English  out;  and,  above  all  things,  maintain  strict  dis- 

Not  only  was  the  appointment  of  Lauzun  in  itself  a  bad  ap- 
pointment: but,  in  order  that  one  man  might  fill  a  post  for 
which  he  was  unfit,  it  was  necessary  to  remove  two  men  from 
posts  for  which  they  were  eminently  fit.  Immoral  and  hard- 
hearted as  Rosen  and  Avaux  were,  Rosen  was  a  skilful  captain, 
and  Avaux  was  a  skilful  politician.  Though  it  is  not  probable 
that  they  would  have  been  able  to  avert  the  doom  of  Ireland ,  it 
is  probable  that  they  might  have  been  able  to  protract  the  con- 
test; and  it  was  evidently  for  the  interest  of  France  that  the 
contest  should  be  protracted.  But  it  would  have  been  an 
affront  to  the  old  general  to  put  him  under  the  orders  of 
Lauzun;  and  between  the  ambassador  and  Lauzun  there  was 

try  to  vindicate  condact  which,  as  described  by  himself,  was  in  the  highest 
degree  dishonourable. 

*  Lauzun  to  Louvoia,  .  '^  .  '  and  June  JJ.  1690,  at  the  French  War 

Jung  7.  *" 


WUXXAM   AHV  JIAUr.  219 

such  an  enmity  that  they  could  not  be  expected  to  act  cordially  chap, 
lojjether.  Both  llosen  and  Avaux,  therefore,  were,  with  many  -  ^'^g^- 
soothinj^  assurances  of  royal  apjirubation  and  favour,  recalled 
to  France.  They  sailed  from  Cork  early  in  the  spring  by  the 
fleet  which  had  conveyed  Lauzun  thitlier.*  Lauzun  had  no 
sooner  landed  than  he  found  that,  though  he  had  been  long 
expected,  nothing  had  been  prepared  for  his  reception.  No 
lodgings  had  been  provided  for  his  men,  no  place  of  security 
for  his  stores,  no  horses,  no  caniages.**  His  troops  had  to 
undergo  the  hardships  of  a  long  march  through  a  desert  before 
they  arrived  at  Dublin.  At  Dubhn,  indeed,  they  found 
tolerable  aecommodation.  They  were  billeted  on  Protestants, 
lived  at  free  quarter,  had  plenty  of  bread,  and  tlireepence  a 
day.  Lauzun  was  appointed  Commander  in  Chief  of  the  Irish 
army,  and  took  up  his  residence  in  the  Castle.***  His  salary'  was 
the  same  with  that  of  the  Lord  Lieutenant,  eight  thousand 
Jacobuses,  equivalent  to  ten  thousand  pounds  sterling,  a  year. 
This  sum  James  offered  to  pay,  not  in  the  brass  which  bore  his 
own  effigy,  but  in  French  gold.  But  Lauzun,  among  whose 
faults  avarice  had  no  place,  refused  to  fill  his  own  coffers  from 
an  almost  empty  treasurj'.  f 

On  him  and  on  the  Frenchmen  who  accompanied  him  the 
misery  of  the  Irish  people  and  the  imbecility  of  theL-ish  govern- 
ment produced  an  effect  which  they  found  it  difficult  to  de- 
scribe. Lauzun  wrote  to  Louvois  that  the  Court  and  the  whole 
kuigdom  were  in  a  state  not  to  be  imagined  by  a  person  who 
had  always  lived  in  well  governed  countries.  It  was,  he  said, 
a  chaos,  such  as  he  had  read  of  in  the  book  of  Genesis,    'llie 

*  See  the  later  letters  of  Araux. 
••  Avaux  to  Louvois,  March  ) J.  1690;  Lauzun  to  Louvois, 

April  3. 
•••  Story's  Impartial  History;  Lauzun  to  Louvois,  May  jj.  1690. 

May  '^8 
Lino    7. 

+  Lauzun  to  Louvois,   —  "  1690. 



CHAP,  whole  business  of  all  the  public  functionaries  was  to  quarrel 
-jg^^  -  with  each  other,  and  to  plunder  the  government  and  the  people. 
After  he  had  been  about  a  month  at  the  Castle,  he  declared 
that  he  would  not  go  through  such  another  month  for  all  the 
world.  His  ablest  officers  confinned  his  testimony.*  One  of 
them,  indeed,  was  so  unjust  as  to  represent  the  people  of 
Ireland  not  merely  as  ignorant  and  idle,  which  they  were,  but 
as  hopelessly  stupid  and  unfeeling,  which  they  assuredly  were 
not.  The  English  policy,  he  said,  had  so  completely  brutalised 
them,  that  they  could  hardly  be  called  human  beings.  They 
were  insensible  to  praise  and  blame,  to  promises  and  threats. 
And  yet  it  was  pity  of  them:  for  they  were  physically  the  finest 
race  of  men  in  the  world.** 

13y  this  time  Schomberg  had  opened  the  campaign  auspi- 
ciously.   He  had  with  little  difficulty  taken  Charlemont,  the 
last  important  fastness  which  the  Irish  occupied  in  Ulster.     But 
the  great  work  of  reconquering  the  three  southern  provinces  of 
the  island  he  deferred  till  William  should  arrive.     William 
meanwhile  was  busied  in  making  arrangements  for  the  govern- 
ment and  defence  of  England  during  his  absence.    He  well 
knew  that  the  Jacobites  were  on  the  alert.    They  had  not  till 
Plan  of    very  lately  been  an  united  and  organized  faction.    There  had 
lishja'cu-been,  to  use  Melfort's  phrase ,  numerous  gangs,  which  were  all 
c'la'reli-    in  Communication  with  James  at  Dublin  Castle,  or  with  Mary 
Ayfe's-     ^^  Modena  at  Saint  Germains,  but  which  had  no  connection 

Uala-  *  I^aiizun  to  Louvois,  April  i',.  May  }g.  1C90.     La  Iloguetto,  who  held 

mouih.      the  rank  of  Mar^chal  do  Camp,  wrote  to  Louvois  to  tho  same  effect  about 
the  aame  time. 

••  "La  politique  des  Anglois  a  6ti  de  tenir  ces  peuples  cy  comme  dea 
esclaves,  et  si  baa  qu'il  ne  leur  estoit  pas  permis  d'apprendre  k  lire  efk 
^crire.  Cela  les  a  rendu  si  bestes  qu'ils  n'ont  presque  point  d'humanit^. 
Rien  ne  lea  esmcut.  Ila  sont  peu  aensibles  k  I'honneur;  et  les  menaces  no 
les  eatonnent  point.  L'interest  nieme  ne  les  peut  engager  au  travail.  Ce 
sont  poartant  les  gena  du  monde  les  micux  falta."  —  Deagrigny  to  Louvois* 

^'-f--  1690. 
Judo  d. 

wn.T.rAM   AND   MAUT.  251 

with  each  other  and  were  unwilling  to  trust  each  other.*  But  chap. 
since  it  had  been  known  that  the  usurper  was  about  to  cross  the  ^^^  ■ 
sea,  and  that  his  sceptre  would  be  left  in  a  female  hand,  these 
gangs  had  been  drawing  close  together,  and  had  begun  to  form 
one  extensive  confederacy.  Clarendon,  who  had  refused  the 
oaths,  and  Aylesbury,  who  had  dishonestly  taken  them,  were 
among  the  chief  traitors.  Dartmouth,  though  he  had  sworn 
allegiance  to  the  sovereigns  who  were  in  possession,  was  one  of 
their  most  active  enemies,  and  undertook  what  may  be  called 
the  maritime  department  of  the  plot.  His  mind  was  constantly 
occupied  by  schemes,  disgraceful  to  an  English  seaman,  for 
the  destruction  of  the  English  fleets  and  arsenals.  He  was  in 
close  communication  with  some  naval  officers,  who,  though 
they  served  the  new  government,  sersed  it  sullenly  and  with 
half  a  heart;  and  he  flattered  himself  that  by  promising  these 
men  ample  rewards,  and  by  artfully  inflaming  the  jealous 
animosity  with  which  they  regarded  the  Dutch  flag,  he  should 
prevail  on  them  to  desert  and  to  carry  their  ships  into  some 
French  or  Irish  port.** 

The  conduct  of  Penn  was  scarcely  less  scandalous.  He  was  Penn. 
a  zealous  and  busy  Jacobite;  and  his  new  way  of  life  was  even 
more  unfavourable  than  his  late  way  of  life  had  been  to  moral 
purity.  It  was  hardly  possible  to  be  at  once  a  consistent  Quaker 
and  a  courtier:  but  it  was  utterly  impossible  to  be  at  once  a  con- 
sistent Quaker  and  a  conspirator.  It  is  melancholy  to  relate 
that  Penn,  while  professing  to  consider  even  defensive  war  as 
sinful,  did  every  thing  in  his  power  to  bring  a  foreign  army  into 
the  heart  of  his  own  country.  He  wrote  to  inform  James  that 
the  adherents  of  the  Prince  of  Orange  dreaded  nothing  so  much 
as  an  appeal  to  the  sword,  and  that,  if  England  were  now  in- 

•  See  Melfort'a  Letters  to  James,  written  In  October  1689.     They  arc 
among  the  Nairno  Papers,  and  were  printed  by  Macpherson. 

••  Life  of  James,  ii.  448.  450.;  and  Trials  of  Ashton  and  Preston. 


CHAP,  vaded  from  France  or  from  Ireland ,  the  number  of  Royalists 



would  appear  to  be  greater  than  ever.  Avaux  thought  this 
letter  so  important ,  that  he  sent  a  translation  of  it  to  Lewis.* 
A  good  effect,  the  shrewd  ambassador  wrote,  had  been  pro- 
duced, by  this  and  similar  communications,  on  the  mind  of 
King  James.  His  Majesty  was  at  last  convinced  that  he  could 
recover  his  dominions  only  sword  in  hand.  It  is  a  curious  fact 
that  it  should  have  been  reserved  for  the  great  preacher  of 
peace  to  produce  this  conviction  in  the  mind  of  the  old  tyrant.** 
Penn's  proceedings  had  not  escaped  the  observation  of  the 
government.  Warrants  had  been  out  against  him ;  and  he  had 
been  taken  into  custody;  but  the  evidence  against  him  had  not 
been  such  as  would  support  a  charge  of  high  treason:  he  had, 
as,  with  all  his  faults,  he  deserved  to  have,  many  friends  in 
every  party;  he  therefore  soon  regained  his  liberty,  and  re- 
turned to  his  plots.*** 
Pxesion.        But  the  chief  conspirator  was  Richard  Graham,  Viscount 

"  Avaux  wrote  thus  to  Lewis  on  the  5th  of  June  1689:  "11  nous  est 
venu  des  nouvellcs  assez  considerables  d'Anglotcrre  et  d'Escosse.  Je  nic 
donno  I'honneur  d'en  envoyer  des  mdmoires  h  vostre  Majesty,  tels  que  je 
Ics  ay  rcccus  du  Roy  de  la  Grande  Bretagne.  Le  commencement  des 
nouvellcs  datives  d'Angleterro  est  la  copie  d'uno  lettre  de  M.  Pen,  quo  j'ay 
veuc  en  original."  Tlie  M^moire  des  Nouvellcs  d'Angleterre  ct  d'Escosse, 
which  was  sent  with  this  despatch,  begins  with  the  following  sentences, 
which  must  have  been  part  of  Penn's  letter:  "Le  Prince  d'Orange  com- 
mence d'estre  fort  d^gouttd  de  I'humeur  des  Anglois;  et  la  face  des  choses 
change  bicn  viste,  selon  la  nature  des  insulaires;  ct  sa  santd  est  fort 
manralse.  11  y  a  un  nuage  qui  commence  h,  se  former  au  nord  des  deux 
royaumes,  oU  lo  lioy  a  beaucoup  d'amis,  ce  qui  donne  beaucoup  d'inqul^- 
tude  anx  principaux  amis  du  Prince  d'Orange,  qui,  estant  riches,  com- 
moncent  it  estre  persuadez  que  ce  sera  Tcsp^e  qui  dtfcidera  de  leur  sort,  ce 
qu'ils  out  tant  tach^  d'^viter.  lis  appr^liondcnt  une  invasion  d'Irlande  et 
de  France;  et  en  co  cas  le  Roy  aura  plus  d'amis  quo  jamais." 

*•  "Le  bon  eflfot.  Sire,  quo  ces  Icttres  d'Escosse  et  d'Angleterre  ont 
produit,  est  qu'elles  ont  enfln  persuade  le  Roy  d'Angleterre  qu'il  ne  re- 
couvrera  ses  estats  que  les  armes  h  la  main;  et  ce  n'est  pas  peu  de  Ten 
avoir  convaincu." 

«**  Van  Citters  to  the  States  General,  March  y\.  1689.    Van  Citters  calls 
Penn  "den  bekenden  Archquaker." 

wnJJAM   AND    MAIIY.  253 

Preston,  who  had,  in  the  late  reign,  been  Secretar)-  of  State,  chap 
Though  a  peer  in  ScotUmd,  he  was  only  a  baronet  in  England.  --  ,,.,„',- 
He  had,  indeed,  received  from  Saint  Gcrmains  an  English 
patent  of  nobility ;  but  the  patent  bore  a  date  posterior  to  that 
flight  which  the  Convention  had  pronounced  an  abdication. 
The  I-ords  had,  therefore,  not  only  refused  to  admit  him  to  a 
share  of  their  privileges,  but  had  sent  him  to  prison  for  pre- 
suming to  call  himself  one  of  their  order.  He  had,  however, 
by  humbling  himself,  and  by  withdrawing  his  claim,  obtained 
his  liberty.*  Though  the  submissive  language  which  he  had 
condescended  to  use  on  this  occasion  did  not  indicate  a  spirit 
prepared  for  martyrdom,  he  was  regarded  by  his  party,  and  by 
the  world  in  general,  as  a  man  of  courage  and  honour.  He  still 
retained  the  seals  of  his  office,  and  was  still  considered  by  the 
adherents  of  indefeasible  hereditary  right  as  the  real  Secretary 
of  State.  He  was  in  high  favour  with  liCwis ,  at  whose  court  he 
had  formerly  resided,  and  had,  since  the  Kevolution,  been  in- 
trusted by  the  French  government  with  considerable  sums  of 
money  for  political  purposes.** 

While  Preston  was  consulting  in  the  capital  with  the  other 
heads  of  the  faction ,  the  rustic  Jacobites  were  laying  in  arms, 
holding  musters,  and  forming  themselves  into  companies, 
troops,  and  regiments.  ITiere  were  alarming  symptoms  in 
Worcestershire.  In  Liincashire  many  gentlemen  had  received 
commissions  signed  by  James,  called  themselves  colonels  and 
captains,  and  made  out  long  lists  of  noncommissioned  officers 
and  privates.  Letters  from  Yorkshire  brought  news  that  large 
bodies  of  men,  who  seemed  to  have  met  for  no  good  pui-pose, 

•  See  his  trial  In  the  Collection  of  Stftte  Trials,  nml  the  Lords*  Journals 
of  Nov.  11,  12,  and  27.  lfiS9. 

••  One  remittance  of  two  thousand  pistoles  Is  mentioned  in  a  letter  of 
Croissy  to  Avaux,  Feb.  J  J.  1C89.  James,  in  a  letter  dated  Jan.  26.  1G89, 
directa  Preston  to  consider  himself  as  still  Secretary,  notwithstanding 
Melfort's  appointment. 

254  lusxoRr  of  England. 

CHAP,  had  been  seen  on  the  moors  near  Knaresboroush.    Letters 


-^~ —  from  Newcastle  gave  an  account  of  a  great  match  at  football 
which  had  been  played  in  Northumberland,  and  was  suspected 
to  have  been  a  pretext  for  a  gathering  of  the  disaffected.  In 
the  crowd,  it  was  said,  were  a  hundred  and  fifty  horsemen  well 
mounted  and  armed,  of  whom  many  were  Papists.* 

Meantime  packets  of  letters  full  of  treason  were  constantly 
passing  and  repassing  between  Kent  and  Picardy,  and  between 
Wales  and  Ireland.  Some  of  the  messengers  were  honest 
fanatics :  but  others  were  mere  mercenaries ,  and  trafficked  in 
the  secrets  of  which  they  were  the  bearers. 
Tiiejaco-  Of  thesc  double  traitors  the  most  remarkable  was  William 
trayed  by  Fuller.  This  man  has  himself  told  us  that,  when  he  was  very 
"  "'  young,  he  fell  in  with  a  pamphlet  which  contained  an  account 
of  the  flagitious  life  and  horrible  death  of  Dangerfield.  The 
boy's  imagination  was  set  on  fire:  he  devoured  the  book:  he 
almost  got  it  by  heart ;  and  he  was  soon  seized ,  and  ever  after 
haunted,  by  a  strange  presentiment  that  his  fate  would 
resemble  that  of  the  wretched  adventurer  whose  history  he  had 
so  eagerly  read.**  It  might  have  been  supposed  that  the 
prospect  of  dying  in  Newgate,  with  a  back  flayed  and  an  eye 
knocked  out,  would  not  have  seemed  very  attractive.  But 
experience  proves  that  there  are  some  distempered  minds  for 
which  notoriety,  even  when  accompanied  with  pain  and  shame, 
has  an  irresistible  fascination.     Animated  by  this  loathsome 

•  Narcissus  Luttrell's  Diary;  Commons' Journala,  May  14,  15.  20.  1690; 
Kingston's  True  History,  1697. 

**  Tlio  Whole  Life  of  Mr.  William  Fuller,  being  an  Impartial  Account 
of  his  Birth,  Education,  Relations  and  Introduction  into  tiie  Service  of  the 
late  King  James  and  hia  Queen ,  together  with  a  True  Discovery  of  the 
Intrigues  for  which  he  lies  now  confined;  as  also  of  the  Persons  that 
employed  and  assisted  him  therein,  with  his  Hearty  Repentance  for  the 
Misdemeanours  he  did  in  the  late  Reign,  and  all  others  whom  he  hath 
injured;  impartially  writ  by  Himself  during  his  Confinement  in  the  Qneen's 
Bench,  1703.    Of  course  I  shall  use  this  narrative  with  caution. 

Ill  90. 

W1U.1AM  Miii  AiAur.  255 

ambition,  Fuller  equalled,  and  perhaps  surpassed ,  his  model,    crap. 

\  V 

He  was  bred  a  Komau  C'atliolic,  and  was  page  to  Ludj-  Melforl, 
when  Lady  Melfort  shone  at  Whitehall  as  one  of  the  loveliebt 
women  in  the  train  of  Mary  of  Modena.  After  the  Revolution, 
he  followed  his  mistress  to  France,  was  repeatedly  employed  in 
delicate  and  perilous  commissions,  and  was  thought  at  Saint 
Germains  to  be  a  devoted  servant  of  the  House  of  Stuart.  In 
truth,  however,  he  had,  in  one  of  his  journeys  to  London, 
sold  himself  to  the  new  government,  and  had  abjured  the  faith 
ill  which  he  had  been  brought  up.  The  honour,  if  it  is  to  be  so 
called,  of  turning  him  from  a  worthless  Papist  into  a  worthless 
Protestant  he  ascribed,  with  characteristic  impudence,  to  the 
lucid  reasoning  and  blameless  life  of  Tillotson. 

In  the  spring  of  1690,  Mary  of  Modena  wished  to  send 
to  her  correspondents  in  London  some  highly  important 
despatches.  As  these  despatches  were  too  bulky  to  be  con- 
cealed in  the  clothes  of  a  single  messenger,  it  was  necessary  to 
employ  two  confidential  persons.  Fuller  was  one.  The  other 
was  a  zealous  young  Jacobite  called  Crone.  Before  they  set 
out,  they  received  full  instructions  from  the  Queen  herself. 
Not  a  scrap  of  paper  was  to  be  detected  about  them  by  an 
ordinary  search:  but  their  buttons  contained  letters  written  in 
invisible  ink. 

The  pair  proceeded  to  Calais.  The  governor  of  that  town 
furnished  them  with  a  boat,  which,  under  cover  of  the  night, 
set  them  on  the  low  marshy  coast  of  Kent,  near  the  lighthouse 
ofDungeness.  ITiey  walked  to  a  farmhouse,  procured  horses, 
and  took  different  roads  to  London.  Fuller  hastened  to  the 
palace  at  Kensington,  and  delivered  the  documents  with  which 
he  was  charged  into  the  King's  hand.  The  first  letter  which 
William  unrolled  seemed  to  contain  only  florid  compliments: 
but  a  pan  of  charcoal  was  lighted:  a  liquor  well  known  to  the 
diplomatists  of  that  age  was   applied  to  the  paper:    an  un- 


cnAP.  savoury  steam  filled  the  closet;  and  lines  full  of  gi'ave  meaning 
-~~  began  to  appear. 

Crone ar-  The  first  thing  to  be  done  was  to  secure  Crone.  He  had 
'"^  *  '  unfortunately  had  time  to  deliver  his  letters  before  he  was 
caught:  but  a  snare  was  laid  for  him  into  which  he  easily  fell. 
In  truth  the  sincere  Jacobites  were  generally  wretched  plotters. 
There  was  among  them  an  unusually  large  proportion  of  sots, 
braggarts,  and  babblers;  and  Crone  was  one  of  these.  Had 
he  been  wise,  he  would  have  shunned  places  of  public  resort, 
kept  strict  guard  over  his  lips,  and  stinted  himself  to  one  bottle 
at  a  meal.  He  was  found  by  the  messengers  of  the  government 
at  a  tavern  table  in  Gracechurch  Street,  swallowing  bumpers  to 
the  health  of  King  James ,  and  ranting  about  the  coming  resto- 
ration, the  P'rench  fleet,  and  the  thousands  of  honest  English- 
men who  were  awaiting  the  signal  to  rise  in  arms  for  their 
rightful  Sovereign.  He  was  carried  to  the  Secretary's  office  at 
^Vhitehall.  He  at  first  seemed  to  be  confident  and  at  his  ease : 
but  when  Fuller  appeared  among  the  bystanders  at  liberty ,  and 
in  a  fashionable  garb,  with  a  sword,  the  prisoner's  courage 
fell;  and  he  was  scarcely  able  to  articulate.* 

The  news  that  Fuller  had  turned  king's  evidence,  that  Crone 
had  been  arrested,  and  that  important  letters  from  Saint  Ger- 
mains  were  in  the  hands  of  William,  flew  fast  through  London, 
and  spread  dismay  among  all  who  were  conscious  of  guilt.** 
It  was  true  that  the  testimony  of  one  witness,  even  if  that  wit- 
ness had  been  more  respectable  than  Fuller,  was  not  legally 
sufficient  to  convict  any  person  of  high  treason.  But  Fuller 
had  so  managed  matters  that  several  witnesses  could  be  pro- 
duced to  corroborate  his  evidence  against  Crone;  and,  if  Crone, 
under  the  strong  terror  of  death,  should  imitate  Fuller's 
example ,  the  heads  of  all  the  chiefs  of  the  conspiracy  would  be 

•  Fuller's  Life  of  himself. 
*•  Clarendon's  Diary,  March  6.  1C90;  Narcissus  Luttrell's  Diary. 


WILLIAM    ANB   MAKT.  257 

at  the  mercy  of  the  government.  The  spirits  of  the  Jacobites  chap 
rose,  however,  when  it  was  known  that  Crone,  though  re- 
peatedly interrogated  by  tliose  who  had  him  in  their  power, 
and  though  assured  that  nothing  but  a  frank  confession  could 
save  his  life,  had  resolutely  continued  silent.  "\Miat  effect  a 
verdict  of  Guilty  and  tlie  near  prospect  of  the  gallows  might 
produce  on  him  remained  to  be  seen.  His  accomplices  were  by 
no  means  willing  that  his  fortitude  should  be  tried  by  so  severe 
a  test.  They  therefore  employed  numerous  artifices,  legal 
and  illegal,  to  avert  a  conviction.  A  woman  named  Clifford, 
with  whom  he  had  lodged,  and  who  was  one  of  the  most  active 
and  cunning  agents  of  the  Jacobite  ff\ction ,  was  entrusted  with 
the  duty  of  keeping  him  steady  to  the  cause,  and  of  rendering 
to  him  sen-ices  from  which  scruj)ulous  or  timid  agents  might 
liave  shrunk.  When  the  dreaded  day  came,  Fuller  was  too  ill 
to  appear  in  the  witness  box,  and  the  trial  was  consequently 
postponed.  He  asserted  that  his  malady  was  not  natural,  that 
a  noxious  dnig  had  been  administered  to  him  in  a  dish  of 
porridge,  tliat  his  nails  were  discoloured,  that  his  hair  came 
off,  and  that  able  physicians  pronounced  him  poisoned.  But 
such  stories,  even  when  they  rest  on  authority  much  better 
than  that  of  Fuller,  ought  to  be  received  with  very  great 

While  Crone  was  awaiting  his  trial,  another  agent  of  the 
Court  of  Saint  Germains,  named  Tempest,  was  seized  on  the 
road  between  Dover  and  I^ondon ,  and  was  found  to  be  the 
bearer  of  numerous  letters  addressed  to  malecontents  in  Eng- 
land.* Every  day  it  became  more  plain  that  the  State  was 
surrounded  by  dangers:  and  yet  it  ^\as  absolutely  necessarj' 
that,  at  this  conjuncture,  the  able  and  resolute  Chief  of  the 
State  should  quit  his  post. 

•  Clarendon's  Diary,  May  10.  1C90. 
iliicnulwi ,  Jliglonj.  V.  ^' 


CHAP.  William,  with  painful  anxiety,  such  as  he  alone  was  able 
— — -j — to  conceal  undei*  an  appearance  of  stoical  serenity,  prepared 
Difficui-  to  take  his  departure.  Maiy  was  in  agonies  of  grief;  and  her 
WiMiam.  distress  affected  him  more  than  was  imagined  by  those  who 
judged  of  his  heart  by  his  demeanour.*  He  knew  too  that  he 
was  about  to  leave  her  surrounded  by  difficulties  with  which 
her  habits  had  not  qualified  her  to  contend.  She  would  be  in 
constant  need  of  wise  and  upright  counsel ;  and  where  was  such 
counsel  to  be  found?  There  were  indeed  among  his  servants 
many  able  men  and  a  few  vuluous  men.  But,  even  when  he 
was  present,  their  political  and  personal  animosities  had  too 
often  made  both  their  abilities  and  then*  virtues  useless  to  him. 
What  chance  was  there  that  the  gentle  Mary  would  be  able  to 
restrain  that  party  spirit  and  that  emulation  which  had  been  but 
very  imperfectly  kept  in  order  by  her  resolute  and  politic  lord? 
If  the  interior  cabinet  which  was  to  assist  the  Queen  were  com- 
posed exclusively  either  of  Whigs  or  of  Tories,  half  the  nation 
would  be  disgusted.  Yet,  if  Whigs  and  Tories  were  mixed,  it 
was  certain  that  there  would  be  constant  dissension.  Such  was 
William's  situation  that  he  had  only  a  choice  of  evils. 
Conduct  All  these  difficulties  were  increased  by  the  conduct  of 
jiury.  Shrewsbury.  The  character  of  this  man  is  a  curious  study. 
He  seemed  to  be  the  petted  favourite  both  of  nature  and  of 
fortune.  Illustrious  bu'th,  exalted  rank,  ample  possessions, 
fine  parts,  extensive  acquirements ,  an  agreeable  person,  man- 
ners singularly  graceful  and  engaging,  combined  to  make  him 
an  object  of  admiration  and  envy.  Bat,  with  all  these  advan- 
tages, he  had  some  moral  and  intellectual  peculiarities  which 
made  him  a  torment  to  himself  and  to  all  connected  with 
him.  His  conduct  at  the  time  of  the  Revolution  had  given 
the  world  a  high  opinion ,  not  merely  of  his  patriotism ,  but  of 

*  He  wrote  to  Portland,  "Je  plains  la  povre  reine,  qui  est  en  des 
terribles  afflictions." 


WIJULIAM   ANU   MAllV.  259 

his  courage,  energy  and  decision.  It  should  seem,  however,  chap. 
that  youtliful  enthusiasm  and  the  exhilaration  produced  by  - 
public  sympathy  and  applause  had,  on  that  occasion,  raised 
him  above  himself.  Scarcely  any  other  part  of  his  life  was  of 
a  piece  with  that  splendid  commencement.  He  had  hardly  be- 
come Secretary  of  State  when  it  appeared  that  his  nerves  were 
too  weak  for  such  a  post.  T?ie  daily  toil,  the  heavy  respon- 
sibility, the  failures,  the  mortifications,  the  obloquy,  which 
are  inseparable  from  power,  broke  his  spirit,  soured  his  tem- 
per, and  impaired  his  health.  To  such  natures  as  his  the 
sustaining  power  of  high  religious  principle  seems  to  be  pe- 
culiarly necessary;  and  unfortunately  Shrewsbury  had,  in  the 
act  of  shaking  off  the  yoke  of  that  superstition  in  which  he 
had  been  brouglit  up,  liberated  himself  also  from  more  salu- 
tary bands  which  might  perhaps  have  braced  his  too  delicately 
constituted  mind  into  stedfastness  and  uprightness.  Destitute 
of  such  support,  he  was,  with  great  abilities,  a  weak  man, 
and,  though  endowed  with  many  amiable  and  attractive  qua- 
lities, could  not  be  called  an  honest  man.  For  his  own  happi- 
ness, he  should  either  have  been  much  better  or  much  worse. 
As  it  was,  he  never  knew  either  that  noble  peace  of  mind  which 
is  the  reward  of  rectitude,  or  that  abject  peace  of  mind  which 
springs  from  impudence  and  insensibility.  Few  people  who 
have  had  so  little  power  to  resist  temptation  have  suffered  so 
cruelly  from  remorse  and  shame. 

To  a  man  of  this  temper  the  situation  of  a  minister  of  state 
during  the  year  which  followed  the  Revolution  must  have  been 
constant  torture.  The  difficulties  by  which  the  government 
was  beset  on  all  sides,  the  malignity  of  its  enemies,  the  un- 
reasonableness of  its  friends,  the  virulence  with  which  the 
hostile  factions  fell  on  each  other  and  on  every  mediator  who 
attempted  to  part  them ,  might  indeed  have  discouraged  a  more 
resolute  spirit      Before  Shrewsljurj'  had  been  six  months  in 



CHAP,  office,  he  had  completely  lost  heart  and  head.     He  l)egan  to 


— - —  address  to  William  letters  which  it  is  difficult  to  imagine  that 
a  prince  so  strongrainded  can  have  read  without  mingled  com- 
passion and  contempt.  "I  am  sensible,"  —  such  was  the  con- 
stant burden  of  these  epistles,  —  "that  I  am  unfit  for  my  place. 
I  cannot  exert  myself.  I  am  not  the  same  man  that  I  was  half 
a  year  ago.  My  health  is  giving  way.  My  mind  is  on  the  rack. 
My  memory  is  failing.  Nothing  but  quiet  and  retirement  can 
restore  me."  William  returned  friendly  and  soothing  answers ; 
and,  for  a  time,  these  answers  calmed  the  troubled  mind  of 
his  minister.*  But  at  length  the  dissolution,  the  general 
election,  the  change  in  the  Commissions  of  Peace  and  Lieu- 
tenancy, and  finally  the  debates  on  the  two  Abjuration  Bills, 
threw  Shrewsbury  into  a  state  bordering  on  distraction.  He 
was  angry  with  the  Whigs  for  using  the  King  ill,  and  yet  was 
still  more  angry  with  the  King  for  showing  favour  to  the  Tories. 
At  what  moment  and  by  what  influence  the  unhappy  man  was 
induced  to  commit  a  treason ,  the  consciousness  of  which  threw 
a  dark  shade  over  all  his  remaining  years ,  is  not  accurately 
known.  But  it  is  highly  probable  that  his  mother,  who, 
though  the  most  abandoned  of  women ,  had  great  power  over 
him,  took  a  fatal  advantage  of  some  unguarded  hour,  when 
he  was  irritated  by  finding  his  advice  slighted,  and  that  of 
Danby  and  Nottingham  preferred.  She  was  still  a  member  of 
that  Church  which  her  son  had  quitted,  and  may  have  thought 
that,  by  reclaiming  him  from  rebellion,  she  might  make  some 
atonement  for  the  violation  of  her  marriage  vow  and  the  murder 
of  her  lord.**  What  is  certain  is  that,  before  the  end  of  the 
spring  of  1690,  Shrewsbury  had  offered  his  services  to  James, 

•  See  the  Letters  of  Shrewsbury  in  Coxe's  Correspondence,   Part  I. 
chap.  1. 

••  That  Lady  Shrewsbury  was  a  Jacobite,  and  did  her  best  to  make  het 
son  80,  is  certain  from  Lloyd's  Paper  of  May  1694,  which  is  among  the 
Nairne  MSS.,  and  was  printed  by  Macpherson. 


Wn.r.lAM    AUD   MAKlf.  261 

and  that  James  had  accepted  them.  One  ])roof  of  the  Biiicerity  chap 
of  the  convert  was  demanded.  He  must  resign  the  seals  which- 
he  had  taken  from  the  hand  of  llie  usurper.*  It  is  probable 
that  Shrewsbury  had  scarcely  committed  his  fault  when  be 
began  to  repent  of  it.  But  he  had  not  strength  of  mind  to  stop 
short  in  the  path  of  evil.  Loathing  his  own  baseness ,  dreading 
a  detection  which  must  be  fatal  to  his  honour,  afraid  to  go  for- 
ward, afraid  to  go  back,  he  underwent  tortures  of  which  it  is 
impossible  to  think  without  commiseration.  The  true  cause 
of  his  distress  was  as  yet  a  profound  secret:  but  his  mental 
struggles  and  changes  of  purpose  were  generally  known,  and 
furnished  the  town,  during  some  weeks,  with  topics  of  con- 
versation. One  night,  when  he  was  actually  setting  out  in 
a  state  of  great  excitement  for  the  palace,  with  the  seals  in  his 
hand,  he  was  induced  by  Burnet  to  defer  his  resignation  for 
a  few  hours.  Some  days  later,  the  eloquence  of  Tillotson  was 
employed  for  the  same  purpose.**  Three  or  four  times  the  Earl 
laid  the  ensigns  of  his  office  on  the  table  of  the  royal  closet, 
and  was  three  or  four  times  induced,  by  the  kind  expostula- 
tions of  the  master  whom  he  w^as  conscious  of  having  wronged, 
to  take  them  up  and  carry  them  away.  Thus  the  resignation 
was  deferred  till  the  eve  of  the  King's  departure.  By  that  time 
agitation  had  thrown  Shrewsbury  into  a  low  fever.  Bentinck, 
who  made  a  last  effort  to  persuade  him  to  retain  office,  found 
him  in  bed  and  too  ill  for  conversation.***     The  resignation  bo 

•  This  is  proved  by  a  few  words  In  a  paper  which  James ,  In  November 
1692,  laid  before  the  French  government.  "II  y  a,"  says  he,  "le  Comto  de 
Shrusbery,  qui,  dtant  Secretaire  d'Etat  du  Prince  d'Oran(,'e,  s'est  d^fait  de 
sa  charge  par  men  ordre."  One  copy  of  tills  most  valuable  paper  is  in  the 
Archives  of  the  French  Foreign  Office.  Another  is  among  the  Nairne  MSS. 
In  the  Bodleian  Library.  A  translation  into  £nglish  will  be  foond  in 
Macphorson's  collection. 
••  Uuriiet,  li.  45. 
•••  bUrcwabury  to  Somers,  Sept.  23.  1607. 



of  Nine. 

262  nrsTORT  ov  England. 

CHAP,  often   tendered  was  at  length   accepted;    and   during   some 
^^"     months  Nottingham  was  the  only  Secretary  of  State. 

It  was  no  small  addition  to  William's  troubles  that,  at  such 
a  moment ,  his  government  should  be  weakened  by  this  defec- 
tion. He  tried,  however,  to  do  his  best  Avith  the  materials 
which  remained  to  him,  and  finally  selected  nine  privy  council- 
lors ,  by  whose  advise  he  enjoined  Mary  to  be  guided.  Four  of 
these,  Devonshire,  Dorset,  Monmouth,  and  Edward  Russell, 
were  Whigs.  The  other  five,  Caermarthen,  Pembroke,  Not- 
tingham, Marlborough,  andLowther,  were  Tories." 

William  ordered  the  Nine  to  attend  him  at  the  office  of  the 
Secretary  of  State.  When  they  were  assembled,  he  came 
leading  in  the  Queen,  desired  them  to  be  seated,  and  ad- 
dressed to  them  a  few  earnest  and  weighty  words.  "  She  wants 
experience ,"  he  said ;  "  but  I  hope  that ,  by  choosing  you  to  be 
her  counsellors,  I  have  supplied  that  defect.  I  put  my  kingdom 
into  your  hands.  Nothing  foreign  or  dpmestic  shall  be  kept 
secret  from  you.  I  implore  you  to  be  diligent  and  to  be 
united."**  In  private  he  told  his  wife  what  he  thought  of  the 
characters  of  the  Nine;  and  it  should  seem,  from  her  letters  to 
him,  that  there  were  few  of  the  number  for  whom  he  expressed 
any  high  esteem.  Marlborough  was  to  be  her  guide  in  military 
affairs,  and  was  to  command  the  troops  in  England.  Russell, 
who  was  Admiral  of  the  Blue ,  and  had  been  rewarded  for  the 
service  which  he  had  done  at  the  time  of  the  Revolution  with 
the  lucrative  place  of  Treasurer  of  the  Na\7,  was  well  fitted  tq 

•  Among  the  Stale  Poems  (vol.  ii.  p.  211.)  will  bo  found  a  piece  which 
some  ignorant  editor  has  entitled,  "A  Satyr  written  when  the  K—  went  to 
Flanders  and  left  nine  Lords  Justices."  I  have  a  manuscript  copy  of  this 
satire,  evidently  contemporary,  and  bearing  the  date  1690.  It  is  indeed 
evident  at  a  glance  that  the  nine  persons  satirised  are  the  nine  members  of 
the  interior  council  which  William  appointed  to  assist  Mary  when  he  went 
to  Ireland.    Some  of  them  never  were  Lords  Justices. 

•»  From  a  narrative  written  by  Lowther,  which  is  among  the  Mackin- 
tosh MSS. 


be  her  adviser  on  all  questions  relating  to  tlie  fleet.     I5ut  Caer-    chap. 


marthen  was  designated  as  the  person  on  whom,  in  case  of  any  • 
difference  of  opinion  in  the  council,  she  ought  chiefly  to  rely. 
Caermarthen's  sagacity  and  experience  were  unquestionable: 
his  principles,  indeed,  were  lax:  but,  if  there  was  any  person 
in  existence  to  whom  he  was  likely  to  be  true,  that  person  was 
Mary.  He  had  long  been  in  a  peculiar  manner  her  friend  and 
servant:  he  had  gained  a  high  place  in  her  favour  by  bringing 
about  her  marriage;  and  he  had,  in  the  Convention,  carried 
his  zeal  for  her  interests  to  a  length  which  she  had  herself 
blamed  as  excessive.  There  was,  therefore,  every  reason  to 
hope  that  he  would  serve  her  at  this  critical  conjuncture  with 
sincere  good  will.* 

One  of  her  nearest  kinsmen,  on  the  other  hand,  was  one  of  conduei 
her  bitterest  enemies.  The  evidence  which  was  in  the  posses-  rendon. 
sion  of  the  government  proved  beyond  dispute  that  Clarendon 
was  deeply  concerned  in  the  Jacobite  schemes  of  insurrection. 
But  the  Queen  was  most  unwilling  that  her  kindred  should  be 
harshly  treated;  and  William,  remembering  through  what  ties 
she  had  broken,  and  what  reproaches  she  had  incurred,  for  his 
sake,  readily  gave  her  uncle's  life  and  liberty  to  her  intercession. 
But,  before  the  King  set  out  for  Ireland,  he  spoke  seriously  to 
Rochester.  "  Your  brother  has  been  plotting  against  me.  I  am 
sure  of  it.  I  have  the  proofs  under  his  own  hand.  I  was  ui-ged 
to  leave  him  out  of  the  Act  of  Grace;  but  1  would  not  do  what 
would  have  given  so  much  pain  to  the  Queen.  For  her  sake  1 
forgive  the  past;  but  my  Lord  Clarendon  will  do  well  to  be  cau- 
tious for  the  future.  If  not,  he  will  find  that  these  are  no  jesting 
matters."  Itochester  communicated  the  admonition  to  Claren- 
don. Clarendon,  who  was  in  constant  correspondence  with 
Dublin  and  Saint  Germains,  protested  that  hia  only  wish  was 
to  be  quiet,  and  that,  though  he  had  a  scruple  about  the  oaths, 

*  See  Mary's  Letters  to  William,  published  by  Dalrymplo. 

264  msTOEr  ojf  England. 

CHAP,  the  existing  government  had  not  a  more  obedient  subject  than 
—j^ —  he  purposed  to  be.* 

Penn  Among  the  letters  which  the  government  had  intercepted 

bin,  °  was  one  from  James  to  Penn.  That  letter,  indeed,  was  not 
legal  evidence  to  prove  that  the  person  to  whom  it  was  ad- 
dressed had  been  guilty  of  high  treason;  but  it  raised  suspicions 
which  are  now  known  to  have  been  well  founded.  Penn  was 
brought  before  the  Privy  Council,  and  interrogated.  He  said 
very  truly  that  he  could  not  prevent  people  from  writing  to  him, 
and  that  he  was  not  accountable  for  what  they  might  write  to 
him.  He  acknowledged  that  he  was  bound  to  the  late  King  by 
ties  of  gratitude  and  affection  which  no  change  of  fortune  could 
dissolve.  "I  should  be  glad  to  do  him  any  service  in  his  private 
affairs:  but  I  owe  a  sacred  duty  to  my  country;  and  therefore 
1  was  never  so  wicked  as  even  to  think  of  endeavouring  to  bring 
him  back."  This  was  a  falsehood;  and  William  was  probably 
aware  that  it  was  so.  He  was  unwilling  however  to  deal  harshly 
with  a  man  who  had  many  titles  to  respect,  and  who  was  not 
likely  to  be  a  very  formidable  plotter.  He  therefore  declared 
himself  satisfied,  and  proposed  to  discharge  the  prisoner.  Some 
of  the  Privy  Councillors,  however,  remonstrated;  and  Penn 
was  required  to  give  bail.** 
Inter-  On  the  day  before  William's  departure,   he  called  Burnet 

tween  '  into  his  closet,  and,  in  firm  but  mournful  language,  spoke  of 
^d'B™r-  *h^  dangers  which  on  every  side  menaced  the  realm,  of  the  fury 
"«'•  of  the  contending  factions,  and  of  the  evil  spirit  which  seemed 
to  possess  too  many  of  the  clergy.  "But  my  trust  is  in  God.  1 
will  go  through  with  my  work  or  perish  in  it.  Only  I  cannot 
help  feeling  for  the  poor  Queen;"  and  twice  he  repeated  with 
unwonted  tenderness,  "the  poor  Queen."  "If  you  love  me," 
he  added,  "wait  on  her  often ,  and  give  her  what  help  you  can. 

•  Clarendon's  Diary,  May  30.  1690. 
••  Gerard  Croese. 

WILLIAM   AND   WAUr.  265 

As  for  me,  but  for  one  thing,  I  should  enjoy  the  prospect  of   chap. 

being  on  horseback  and  under  canvass  again.  For  I  am  sure  I  •  ^j^^y 
am  fitter  to  direct  a  campaign  than  to  manage  your  Houses  of 
Lord.s  and  Commons,  liut,  though  I  know  that  I  am  in  the 
path  of  duty,  it  is  hard  on  my  wife  that  her  father  ai>d  1  must  be 
opposed  to  each  other  in  tlie  field.  God  send  that  no  harm  may 
happen  to  him.  Let  me  have  your  prayers,  Doctor."  Burnet 
retired  greatly  moved ,  and  doubtless  put  up,  with  no  common 
fervour,  those  prayers  for  which  his  master  had  asked.* 

On  the  following  dav,  the  fourth  of  June,  the  King  set  outwiiiiam 

°         -  '  '  "=•  sets  oul 

for  Ireland.  Prince  George  had  offered  his  services,  had  fur  ire- 
equipped  himself  at  great  charge,  and  fully  expected  to  be  com- 
plimented with  a  seat  in  the  royal  coach.  But  William,  who 
promised  himself  little  pleasure  or  advantage  from  Ilis  lloyal 
Uighness's  conversation,  and  who  seldom  stood  on  ceremony, 
took  Portland  for  a  travelling  companion,  and  never  once, 
during  the  whole  of  tliat  eventful  campaign,  seemed  to  be 
aware  of  the  Prince's  existence.**  George,  if  left  to  himself, 
would  hardly  have  noticed  the  affront.  But,  though  he  was 
too  dull  to  feel,  his  wife  felt  for  him;  and  her  resentment  was 
studiously  kept  alive  by  mischiefmakers  of  no  common  dexter- 
ity. On  this,  as  on  many  other  occasions,  the  infirmities  of 
William's  temper  proved  seriously  detrimental  to  the  great 
interests  of  which  he  was  the  guardian.  His  reign  would  have 
been  far  more  prosperous  if,  with  his  own  courage,  capacity 
and  elevation  of  mind,  he  had  had  a  little  of  the  easy  good 
humour  and  politeness  of  his  uncle  Charles. 

In  four  days  the  King  arrived  at  Chester,  where  a  fleet  of 
transports  was  awaiting  the  signal  for  sailing.  He  embarked  on 
the  eleventh  of  June,  and  was  convoyed  across  Saint  George's 

•  Burnet,  il.  46. 
••  The  DucUeas  of  Marlborough's  Vindication. 



CHAP.  Channel  by  a  squadron  of  men  of  war  under  the  command  of 

-^^ —  Sir  Cloudesley  Shovel.* 

Trial  of  The  month  which  followed  "William's  departure  from  London 

was  one  of  tlie  most  eventful  and  anxious  months  in  the  whole 
history  of  England.  A  few  hours  after  he  had  set  out,  Crone 
was  brought  to  the  bar  of  the  Old  Bailey.  A  great  array  of 
judges  was  on  the  Bench.  Fuller  had  recovered  sufficiently  to 
make  his  appearance  in  court;  and  the  trial  proceeded.  The 
Jacobites  had  been  indefatigable  in  their  efforts  to  ascertain  the 
political  opinions  of  the  persons  whose  names  were  on  the  jury 
list.  So  many  were  challenged  that  there  was  some  difficulty 
in  making  up  the  number  of  twelve ;  and  among  the  twelve  was 
one  on  whom  the  malecontents  thought  that  they  could  depend. 
Nor  were  they  altogether  mistaken;  for  this  man  held  out 
against  his  eleven  companions  all  night  and  half  the  next  day; 
and  he  would  probably  have  starved  them  into  submission  had 
not  Mrs.  Clifford,  who  was  in  league  with  him,  been  caught 
throwing  sweetmeats  to  him  through  the  window.  His  supplies 
having  been  cut  off,  he  yielded;  and  a  verdict  of  Guilty,  which, 
it  was  said,  cost  two  of  the  jurymen  their  lives,  was  returned. 
A  motion  in  arrest  of  judgment  was  instantly  made,  on  the 
ground  that  a  Latin  word  indorsed  on  the  back  of  the  indict- 
ment was  incorrectly  spelt.  The  objection  was  undoubtedly 
frivolous.  Jeffreys  would  have  at  once  oven-uled  it  with  a 
torrent  of  curses,  and  would  have  proceeded  to  the  most 
agreeable  part  of  his  duty,  that  of  describing  to  the  prisoner  the 
whole  process  of  half  hanging,  disembowelling,  mutilating, 
and  quartering.  But  Holt  and  his  brethren  remembered  that 
they  were  now  for  the  first  time  since  the  Revolution  trying  a 
culprit  on  a  charge  of  high  treason.     It  was  therefore  desirable 

«  London  Gazettes,  June  6.  12.  16.  1090;  ITop  to  the  States  General 
from  Chester,  June  -f,.  Hop  attended  William  to  Ireland  as  envoy  from 
the  States. 


WILLIAM    AND   MAKV.  267 

to  show,  in  a  manner  not  to  be  misunderstood,  that  a  new  era    chap. 

*  V 

had  commenced,  and  that  the  tribunals  would  in  future  rather - 
err  on  the  side  of  humanity  than  imitate  the  cruel  haste  and 
levity  with  which  Cornish  had,  when  pleading  for  his  life,  been 
silenced  by  servile  judges.  The  passing  of  the  sentence  was 
therefore  deferred:  a  day  was  appointed  for  considering  the 
point  raised  by  Crone;  and  counsel  were  assigned  to  argue  in 
his  behalf.  "This  would  not  have  been  done,  Mr.  Crone,"  said 
the  Lord  Chief  Justice  significantly,  "in  either  of  the  last  two 
reigns."  After  a  full  hearing,  the  Bench  unanimously  pro- 
nounced the  error  to  be  immaterial;  and  the  prisoner  was  con- 
demned to  death.  He  owned  that  his  trial  had  been  fair, 
thanked  the  judges  for  their  patience,  and  besought  them  to 
intercede  for  him  with  the  Queen.* 

He  was  soon  informed  that  his  fate  was  in  his  own  hands. 
The  government  was  willing  to  spare  him  if  he  would  earn  his 
pardon  by  a  full  confession.  The  struggle  in  his  mind  was 
terrible  and  doubtful.  At  one  time  Mrs.  Clifford,  who  had 
access  to  his  cell,  reported  to  the  Jacobite  chiefs  that  he  was  in 
a  great  agony.  He  could  not  die,  he  said:  he  was  too  young 
to  be  a  mart)T.**  The  next  morning  she  found  him  cheerful  and 
resolute.***  He  held  out  till  the  eve  of  the  day  fixed  for  his 
execution.  Then  he  sent  to  ask  for  an  interview  with  the 
Secretary  of  State.  Nottingham  went  to  Newgate;  but,  before 
he  arrived.  Crone  had  changed  his  mind  and  was  determined 
to  say  nothing.  "Then,"  said  Nottingham,  "I  shall  see  you 
no  more ;  for  tomorrow  will  assuredly  be  your  last  day."  But, 
after  Nottingham  had  departed,  Monmouth  repaired  to  the 
gaol,  and  flattered  himself  that  he  had  shaken  the  prisoner's 

•  Clarendon's  Diary,  June  7.  and  12.  IfiOO;  Narcissus  Luttroll's  Diary; 
Dailen,  the  Dutch  Secretary  of  Legation  ,  to  Van  Citters,  June  JS  ;  f  ""f  f's 
Life  of  himself;  Welwood'a  Mercuriug  Reformatus,  June]!.  1690. 
••  Clarendon's  Diary,  June  8.  1690. 
••"  Clarendon's  Diary,  June  10. 

268  HiSToar  or  England. 

CHAP,  resolution.    At  a  very  late  hour  that  night  came  a  respite  for  a 
— j~— week.*     The  week  however  passed  away  without  any  dis- 
closure: the  gallows  and  quartering  block  were  ready  at  Ty- 
burn :  the  sledge  and  axe  were  at  the  door  of  Newgate :  the 
crowd  was  thick  all  up  Holborn  Hill  and  along  the  Oxford 
Koad;  when  a  messenger  brought  another  respite,  and  Crone, 
instead  of  being  dragged  to  the  place  of  execution,  was  con- 
ducted to  the  Council  chamber  at  Whitehall.     His  fortitude 
had  been  at  last  overcome  by  the  near  prospect  of  death;  and 
on  this  occasion  he  gave  important  information.** 
Dangerof       Such  uiformation  as  he  had  it  in  his  power  to  give  was  in- 
and'in-"   deed  at  that  moment  much  needed.     Both  an  invasion  and  an 
ti""*'''    insurrection  were  hourly  expected.***    Scarcely  had  William 
lull's      ^^^  °"^  ^^^^  London  when  a  great  French  fleet  commanded  by 
"e®'        the  Count  of  Tourville  left  the  port  of  Brest  and  entered  the 

in  the  _  ^ 

Channel.  British  Channel.  Tourville  was  the  ablest  maritime  commander 
that  his  country  then  possessed.  He  had  studied  every  part  of 
his  profession.  It  was  said  of  him  that  he  was  competent  to  fill 
any  place  on  shipboard  from  that  of  carpenter  up  to  that  of 
admiral.  It  was  said  of  him,  also,  that  to  the  dauntless  courage 
of  a  seaman  he  united  the  suavity  and  urbanity  of  an  accom- 
plished gentleman,  t  He  now  stood  over  to  the  English  shore, 
and  approached  it  so  near  that  his  ships  could  be  plainly  de- 
scried from  the  ramparts  of  Plymouth.  From  Plymouth  he 
proceeded  slowly  along  the  coast  of  Devonshire  and  Dorset- 
shire. There  was  great  reason  to  apprehend  that  his  move- 
ments had  been  concerted  with  the  English  malecontents.ff 

*  Baden  to  Van  Citters,  June  }g.  1690.;  Clarendon's  Diary,  June  19.; 
Narcissus  Luttrell's  Diary. 

**  Clarendon's  Diary,  June  26. 
•*•  Narcissus  Luttrell'a  Diary, 
i  Memoirs  of  ijaint  Simon. 

Judo  2't 

ft  London  Gazette,  June  26.  1690;  Baden  to  Van  Citters,  -tt — r-- 
'  '  '    July  4. 

Wn.r-TAM   ANT>  MAllT.  2C>0 

Tlie  Queen  niid  her  Council  hastened  to  take  measures  for  r?i*p. 
the  defence  of  the  country'  against  both  foreign  and  domestic  ■  \^,j„  — 
enemies.  Torrington  took  the  command  of  the  English  fleet 
which  lay  in  the  Downs,  and  sailed  to  Saint  Helen's.  He  was 
there  joined  by  a  Dutch  squadron  under  the  command  of 
Kvertsen.  It  seemed  that  the  cliffs  of  the  Isle  of  Wight  would 
witness  one  of  the  greatest  naval  conflicts  recorded  in  historj-. 
A  hundred  and  fifty  ships  of  the  line  could  be  counted  at  once 
from  the  watchtower  of  Saint  Catharine's.  On  the  east  of  the 
huge  precipice  of  lUack  Gang  Chine,  and  in  full  view  of  the 
richly  wooded  rocks  of  Saint  Lawrence  and  Ventnor,  were 
mustered  the  maritime  forces  of  England  and  Holland.  On 
the  west,  stretching  to  that  white  cape  where  the  waves  roar 
among  the  Needles,  lay  the  armament  of  France. 

It  was  on  the  twenty  sixth  of  June,  less  than  a  fortnight  Arri•^ts of 
after  William  had  sailed  for  Ireland,  that  the  hostile  fleets  took  p"rsuns! 
up  these  positions.  A  few  hours  earlier,  there  had  been  an  im- 
portant and  anxious  sitting  of  the  Privy  Council  at  Whitehall. 
The  malecontents  who  were  leagued  with  France  were  alert 
and  full  of  hope.  Mary  had  remarked,  while  taking  her  airing, 
that  Hyde  Park  was  swarming  with  them.  The  whole  board 
was  of  opinion  that  it  was  necessary  to  arrest  some  persons  of 
whose  guilt  the  government  had  proofs.  "\Mien  Clarendon  was 
named,  something  was  said  in  his  behalf  by  his  friend  and 
relation,  Sir  Henry  Capel.  The  other  councillors  stared,  but 
remained  silent.  It  was  no  pleasant  task  to  accuse  the  Queen's 
kinsman  in  the  Queen's  presence.  Mary  had  scarcely  ever 
oi)ened  her  lips  at  Council:  but  now,  being  possessed  of  clear 
proofs  of  her  uncle's  treason  in  his  own  handwriting,  and  know- 
ing that  respect  for  her  prevented  her  advisers  from  proposing 
what  the  public  safety  required,  she  broke  silence.  "Sir 
Henr\-,"  she  said,  "I  know,  and  every  body  here  knows  as  well 
as  I,  that  there  is  too  much  against  my  Lord  Clarendon  to  leave 

270  UlSl'OXiY   OJ?  EiSGLANX). 

CHAP,  him  out."    The  warrant  was  drawn  up;  and  Capel  signed  it 


•with  the  rest.     "I  am  more  sorry  for  Lord  Clarendon,"  Mary 

wrote  to  her  husband,  "than,  maybe,  will  be  believed."    That 

evening  Clarendon  and  several  other  noted  Jacobites  were 

lodged  in  the  Tower.  * 

TorriDg-        When  the  Privy  Council  had  risen,  the  Queen  and  the  in- 

ton  or- 

dercd  to  terior  Council  of  Nine  had  to  consider  a  question  of  the  gravest 
battle  to  importance.  What  orders  were  to  be  sent  to  Torrington?  The 
°^"'  °'  safety  of  the  State  might  depend  on  his  judgment  and  presence 
of  mind;  and  some  of  Mary's  advisers  apprehended  that  he  would 
not  be  found  equal  to  the  occasion.  Their  anxiety  increased 
when  news  came  that  he  had  abandoned  the  coast  of  the  Isle  oi 
Wight  to  the  French,  and  was  retreating  before  them  towards 
the  Straits  of  Dover.  The  sagacious  Caermarthen  and  the  en- 
terprising Monmouth  agreed  in  blaming  these  cautious  tactics. 
It  was  true  that  Torrington  had  not  so  many  vessels  asTourville : 
but  Caermarthen  thought  that,  at  such  a  time ,  it  was  advisable 
to  fight,  although  against  odds;  and  Monmouth  was,  through 
life,  for  fighting  at  all  times  and  against  all  odds.  Russell,  who 
was  indisputably  one  of  the  best  seamen  of  the  age ,  held  that 
the  disparity  of  numbers  was  not  such  as  ought  to  cause  any 
uneasiness  to  an  officer  who  commanded  English  and  Dutch 
sailoi's.  He  therefore  proposed  to  send  to  the  Admiral  a  re- 
primand couched  in  terms  so  severe  that  the  Queen  did  not  like 
to  sign  it.  The  language  was  much  softened;  but,  in  the  main, 
Russell's  advice  was  followed.  Torrington  was  positively  or- 
dered to  retreat  no  further,  and  to  give  battle  immediately. 
Devonshire,  however,  was  still  unsatisfied.  "It  is  my  duty, 
Madam ,"  he  said,  "to  tell  Your  Majesty  exactly  what  I  think  on 
a  matter  of  this  importance;  and  I  think  that  my  Lord  Tor- 
rington is  not  a  man  to  be  trusted  with  the  fate  of  three  king- 

*  Mary  to  William,  June  26.  1090;   Clarendon's  Diary  of  the   game 
date;  Marciasus  Lattrell's  Diary. 

WLLUAAl   AlsB   ilAUV.  271 

donis."  Devonshire  was  right:  but  his  colleagues  were  uiiani-  chap. 
niously  of  opinion  that  to  supersede  a  commander  in  sight  of  the  — ^ — 
enemy,  and  on  the  eve  of  a  general  action,  would  be  a  course 
full  of  danger;  and  it  is  difficult  to  say  that  they  were  wrong. 
"You  must  either,"  said  Russell,  "leave  him  where  he  is,  or 
send  for  him  as  a  prisoner."  Several  expedients  were  suggested. 
Caermarthen  proposed  that  Russell  should  be  sent  to  assist 
Torrington.  Monmouth  passionately  implored  permission  to 
join  the  fleet  in  any  capacity,  as  a  captain,  or  as  a  volunteer. 
"  Only  let  me  be  once  on  board ;  and  I  pledge  my  life  that  there 
shall  be  a  battle."  After  much  discussion  and  hesitation,  it  was 
resolved  that  both  Russell  and  Monmouth  should  go  down  to 
the  coast.*  They  set  out,  but  too  late.  The  despatch  which 
ordered  Torrington  to  fight  had  preceded  them.  It  reached  him 
when  he  was  off  Beachy  Head.  He  read  it,  and  was  in  a  great 
strait.  Not  to  give  battle  was  to  be  guilty  of  direct  disobedience. 
To  give  battle  was,  in  his  judgment,  to  incur  serious  risk  of 
defeat.  He  probably  suspected ,  —  for  he  was  of  a  captious  and 
jealous  temper,  —  that  the  instructions  which  placed  him  in  so 
painful  a  dilemma  had  been  framed  by  enemies  and  rivals  with  a 
design  unfriendly  to  his  fortune  and  his  fame.  He  was  exaspe- 
rated by  the  thought  that  he  was  ordered  about  and  overruled 
by  Russell ,  who ,  though  his  inferior  in  professional  rank,  exer- 
cised, as  one  of  the  Council  of  Nine,  a  supreme  control  over  all 
the  departments  of  the  public  service.  There  seems  to  be  no 
ground  for  charging  Torrington  with  disafi'ection.  Still  less  can 
it  be  suspected  that  an  officer,  whose  whole  life  had  been  passed 
in  confronting  danger,  and  who  had  always  borne  himself 
bravely,  wanted  the  personal  courage  which  hundreds  of  sailors 
on  board  of  every  ship  under  his  command  possessed.  But  there 
is  a  higher  courage  of  which  Torrington  was  wholly  destitute. 
He  shrank  from  all  responsibility,  from  the  responsibility  of 

•  Mary  to  William,  J^ne  28.  and  July  2.  1690. 


CHAP,  fighting,  and  from  the  responsibility  of  not'  fighting,  and  he 
~^-^ —  succeeded  in  finding  out  a  middle  way  which  united  all  the  in- 
conveniences which  he  wished  to  avoid.     He  would  conform  to 
the  letter  of  his  instructions:  yet  he  would  not  put  every  thing 
to  hazard.     Some  of  his  ships  should  skirmish  with  the  enemy: 
but  the  great  body  of  his  fleet  should  not  be  risked.     It  was 
evident  that  the  vessels  which  engaged  the  French  would  be 
placed  in  a  most  dangerous  situation,  and  would  suffer  much 
loss;  and  there  is  but  too  good  reason  to  believe  that  Torrington 
was  base  enough  to  lay  his  plans  in  such  a  manner  that  the 
danger  and  loss  might  fall  almost  exclusively  to  the  share  of  the 
Dutch.    He  bore  them  no  love;  and  in  England  they  were  so 
unpopular  that  the  destruction  of  their  whole  squadron  was 
likely  to  cause  fewer  murmui's  than  the  capture  of  one  of  our 
own  frigates. 
Battle  of        It  was  on  the  twenty  ninth  of  June  that  the  Admiral  received 
Head.'^     the  order  to  fight.    The  next  day,  at  four  in  the  morning,  he 
bore  down  on  the  French  fleet,  and  formed  his  vessels  in  order 
.   of  battle.     He  had  not  sixty  sail  of  the  line,  and  the  French 
had  at  least  eighty ;  but  his  ships  were  more  strongly  manned 
than  those  of  the  enemy.    He  placed  the  Dutch  in  the  van  and 
gave  them  the  signal  to  engage.     That  signal  was  promptly 
obeyed.    Evertsen  and  his  countrymen  fought  with  a  courage 
to  which  both  their  English  allies  and  their  French  enemies ,  in 
spite  of  national  prejudices,  did  full  justice.    In  none  of  Van 
Tromp's  or  De  Ruyter's  battles  had  the  honour  of  the  Batavian 
flag  been  more  gallantly  upheld.     During  many  hours  the  van 
maintained  the  unequal  contest  with  very  little  assistance  from 
any  other  part  of  the  fleet.    At  length  the  Dutch  Admiral  drew 
off",  leaving  one  shattered  and  dismasted  hull  to  the  enemy. 
His  second  in  command  and  several  officers  of  high  rank  had 
fallen.    To  keep  the  sea  against  the  French  after  this  disastrous 
and  ignominious  action  was  impossible.  The  Dutch  ships  which 

WILLIAM    AND   MAUY,  273 

had  come  out  of  the  fip;ht  were  in  lamentable  condition.  Tor-  chap. 
rington  ordered  some  of  them  to  be  destroyed:  the  rest  he  took  —^ — 
in  tow:  he  then  fled  along  the  coast  of  Kent,  and  sought  a  re- 
fuge in  the  Thames.  As  soon  as  he  was  in  the  river,  he  ordered 
all  the  buoys  to  be  pulled  up,  and  thus  made  the  naviga- 
tion so  dangerous,  that  the  pursuers  could  not  venture  to 
follow  him.* 

It  was,  however,  thought  by  many,  and  especially  by  the 
I'Vench  ministers,  that,  if  Toui-ville  had  been  more  enterprising, 
the  allied  fleet  might  have  been  destroyed.  He  seems  to  have 
borne,  in  one  respect,  too  much  resemblance  to  his  vanquished 
opponent.  Though  a  brave  man ,  he  was  a  timid  commander. 
His  life  he  exposed  with  careless  gaiety;  but  it  was  said  that  he 
was  nervously  anxious  and  pusillanimously  cautious  when  his 
professional  reputation  was  in  danger.  He  was  so  much  an- 
noyed by  these  censures  that  he  soon  became,  unfortunately 
for  his  country,  bold  even  to  temerity.** 

There  has  scarcely  ever  been  so  sad  a  day  in  London  as  that  Abrm  in 
on  which  the  news  of  the  Battle  of  Beachy  Head  arrived.     The 
shame  was  insupportable :  the  peril  was  imminent,  ^^^lat  if  the 

•  Report  of  the  Commlssionera  of  the  Admiralty  to  the  Queen,  dated 
Shccrness,  July  18.  1690;  Evidence  of  Captains  Cornwall,  Jones,  Martin 
and  Hubbard,  and  of  Vice  Admiral  Dclaval;  Burnet  ii.  62.,  and  Speaker 
Onslow's  Note;  Mdmoires  da  Mar<?chal  deXourville;  Memoirs  of  Trans- 
actions at  Sea  by  Josiah  Uurchett,  Esq.,  Secretary  to  tlio  Admiralty,  1703; 
London  Ga/.etto,  July  3.;  Historical  and  Political  Mercury  for  July  1690; 
Mary  to  William,  July  2.;  Torrington  to  Caerraarthcn,  July  1.  The  account 
of  the  battle  in  the  Paris  Gazette  of  July  15.  1690  is  not  to  be  read  without 
shame:  "On  a  8(;eu  quo  les  KoUandois  s'cstoicnt  trfcs  bicn  battus,  et  qu'ils 
s'estoient  comportcz  en  cette  occasion  en  braves  gens,  mais  que  les  Anglois 
n'en  avoient  pas  agi  de  meme."  In  the  French  official  relation  of  the  battle 
off  Capo  Bev^zier,  —  an  odd  corruption  of  Pevensey,  —  are  some  passages 
to  the  same  effect:  "LesHoUandois  combattirent  aveo  beancoup  do  courage 
ct  de  fermctd;  mais  lis  ne  furent  pas  bien  secondez  par  les  Anglois."  "Les 
Anglois  80  distingn^rcnt  des  vaisseaux  do  Hollande  par  le  pcu  do  valeur 
qu'ils  montrfcrent  dans  le  combat." 

••  Life  of  James,  ii.  409.;  Burnet,  ii.  6. 

ilacaulatj,  IIis(orij.  V.  18 


CRAP,  victorious  enemy  should  do  what  De  Rujler  had  done?    \\Tiat 
^^'     if  the  dockyards  of  Chatham  should  again  be  destroyed?  What 


if  the  Tower  itself  should  be  bombarded?  What  if  the  vast 
wood  of  masts  and  yardarms  below  London  Bridge  should  be 
in  a  blaze?  Nor  was  this  aU.  Evil  tidings  had  just  arrived  from 
Baiiie  of  the  Low  Countries.  The  allied  forces  under  Waldeck  had,  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  Fleurus,  encountered  the  French  com- 
manded by  the  Duke  of  Luxemburg.  The  day  had  been  long 
and  fiercely  disputed.  At  length  the  skill  of  the  French  general 
and  the  impetuous  valour  of  the  French  cavahry  had  prevailed.* 
Thus  at  the  same  moment  the  army  of  Lewis  was  victorious  in 
Flanders,  and  his  navy  was  in  undisputed  possession  of  the 
Channel.  Marshal  Humieres  with  a  considerable  force  lay  not 
far  from  the  Straits  of  Dover.  It  had  been  given  out  that  he 
was  about  to  join  Luxemburg.  But  the  information  which  the 
English  government  received  from  able  military  men  in  the 
Netherlands  and  from  spies  who  mixed  with  the  Jacobites ,  and 
which  to  so  great  a  master  of  the  art  of  war  as  Marlborough 
seemed  to  deserve  serious  attention,  was,  that  the  army  of 
Humieres  would  instantly  march  to  Dunkirk  and  would  there 
be  taken  on  board  of  the  fleet  of  Tourville.**  Between  the  coast 
of  Artois  and  the  Nore  not  a  single  ship  bearing  the  red  cross 
of  Saint  George  could  venture  to  show  herself.  The  em- 
barkation would  be  the  business  of  a  few  hours.  A  few  hours 
more  might  suffice  for  the  voyage.  At  any  moment  London 
might  be  appalled  by  the  news  that  thirty  thousand  French 
veterans  were  in  Kent,  and  that  the  Jacobites  of  half  the 
counties  of  the  kingdom  were  in  arms.  All  the  regular  troops 
who  could  be  assembled  for  the  defence  of  the  island  did  not 
amount  to  more  than  ten  thousand  men.    It  may  be  doubted 

•  London  Gazette,  June  30.  1690;  Historical  and  Political  Mercury  for 
July  1690. 

*»  Nottingiiam  to  William,  July  16.  1690. 

WiUJ^AM   Mil)  JdAiiT.  275 

whether  our  country  has  ever  passed  through  a  more  alarming    criAp. 
crisis  than  that  of  the  first  week,  of  July  1690.  ,,;.j„ 

But  tlu!  evil  brought  with  it  its  own  remedy.  Those  little  spirit  of 
knew  England  who  imagined  that  she  could  be  in  danger  at  uoV* 
once  of  rebellion  and  invasion:  for  in  ti-uth  the  danger  of  in- 
vasion was  the  best  security  against  the  danger  of  rebellion. 
The  cause  of  James  was  the  cause  of  France;  and,  though  to 
superficial  observers  the  French  alliance  seemed  to  be  his  chief 
support,  it  really  was  the  obstacle  which  made  his  restoration 
impossible.  In  the  patriotism,  the  too  often  unamiable  and 
unsocial  patriotism  of  our  forefathers,  lay  the  secret  at  once 
of  William's  weakness  and  of  his  strength.  They  were  jealous 
of  his  love  for  Holland:  but  they  cordially  sympathized  with  his 
hatred  of  Lewis.  To  their  strong  sentiment  of  nationality  are 
to  be  ascribed  almost  all  those  petty  annoyances  which  made 
the  throne  of  the  Deliverer,  from  his  accession  to  his  death, 
so  uneasy  a  seat.  But  to  the  same  sentiment  it  is  to  be  ascribed 
that  his  throne,  constantly  menaced  and  frequently  shaken, 
was  never  subverted.  For,  much  as  his  people  detested  his 
foreign  favourites,  they  detested  his  foreign  adversaries  still 
more.  The  Dutch  were  Protestants:  the  French  were  Papists. 
The  Dutch  were  regarded  as  selfseeking,  grasping,  overreach- 
ing allies:  the  French  were  mortal  enemies.  The  worst  that 
could  be  apprehended  from  the  Dutch  was  that  they  might 
obtain  too  large  a  share  of  the  patronage  of  the  Crown,  that 
they  might  throw  on  us  too  large  a  part  of  the  burdens  of  the 
war,  that  they  might  obtain  commercial  advantages  at  our  ex- 
pense. But  the  French  would  conquer  us:  the  French  would 
enslave  us:  the  French  would  inflict  on  us  calamities  such  as 
those  which  had  turned  the  fair  fields  and  cities  of  the  Pala- 
tinate into  a  desert.  The  hopgrounds  of  Kent  would  be  as  the 
vineyards  of  the  Neckar.  The  High  Street  of  Oxford  and  the 
close  of  Salisbury  would  be  piled  with  ruins  such  as  those  which 


276  insTOET  OF  England. 

cnAP.  covered  the  spots  where  the  palaces  and  churches  of  Heidel- 
-^ — berg  and  Manheim  had  once  stood.  The  parsonage  over- 
shadowed by  the  old  steeple,  the  farmhouse  peeping  from 
among  beehives  and  appleblossoms,  the  manorial  hall  em- 
bosomed in  elms ,  would  be  given  up  to  a  soldiery  which  knew 
not  what  it  was  to  pity  old  men  or  delicate  women  or  sucking 
children.  The  words,  "The  French  are  coming,"  like  a  spell, 
quelled  at  once  all  murmurs  about  taxes  and  abuses,  about 
William's  ungracious  manners  and  Portland's  lucrative  places, 
and  raised  a  spirit  as  high  and  unconquerable  as  had  pervaded, 
a  hundred  years  before ,  the  ranks  which  Elizabeth  reviewed  at 
Tilbury.  Had  the  army  of  Humieres  landed,  it  would  assuredly 
have  been  withstood  by  almost  every  male  capable  of  bearing 
arms.  Not  only  the  muskets  and  pikes  but  the  scythes  and 
pitchforks  would  have  been  too  few  for  the  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands who,  forgetting  all  distinction  of  sect  or  faction,  would 
have  risen  up  like  one  man  to  defend  the  English  soil. 

The  immediate  effect  therefore  of  the  disasters  in  the 
Channel  and  in  Flanders  was  to  unite  for  a  moment  the  gi-eat 
body  of  the  people.  The  national  antipathy  to  the  Dutch 
seemed  to  be  suspended.  Their  gallant  conduct  in  the  fight 
off  Beachy  Head  was  loudly  applauded.  The  inaction  of  Tor- 
rington  was  loudly  condemned.  London  set  the  example  of 
concert  and  of  exertion.  The  irritation  produced  by  the  late 
election  at  once  subsided.  All  distinctions  of  party  disappeared. 
The  Lord  Mayor  was  summoned  to  attend  the  Queen.  She 
requested  him  to  ascertain  as  soon  as  possible  what  the  capital 
would  undertake  to  do  if  the  enemy  should  venture  to  make  a 
descent.  He  called  together  the  representatives  of  the  wards, 
conferred  with  them,  and  returned  to  Whitehall  to  report  that 
they  had  unanimously  bound  themselves  to  stand  by  the 
government  with  life  and  fortune;  that  a  hundred  thousand 
pounds  were  ready  to  be  paid  into  the  Exchequer;  that  ten 

WILLIAM    AND    MAUY.  277 

thousand  Londoners,  well  armed  and  appointed,  were  pre-  chap. 
pared  to  march  at  an  hour's  notice;  and  that  an  additional —j^- 
force,  consisting  of  six  regiments  of  foot,  a  strong  regiment 
ofhoise,  and  a  thousand  dragoons ,  should  be  instantly  raised 
without  costing  the  Crown  a  farthing.  Of  Her  Majesty  the 
City  had  nothing  to  ask,  but  that  she  would  be  pleased  to  set 
over  these  troops  officers  in  whom  she  could  confide.  The  same 
spirit  was  shown  in  every  part  of  the  country.  Though  in  the 
southern  counties  the  harvest  was  at  hand,  the  rustics  repaired 
with  unusual  cheerfulness  to  the  musters  of  the  militia.  The 
Jacobite  country  gentlemen ,  who  had,  during  several  mouths, 
been  making  preparations  for  the  general  rising  which  was  to 
take  place  as  soon  as  AVilliam  was  gone  and  as  help  arrived 
from  France,  now  thatAVilliam  was  gone,  now  that  a  French 
invasion  was  hourly  expected,  burned  their  commissions  signed 
by  James,  and  hid  their  arms  behind  wainscots  or  in  haystacks. 
The  Jacobites  in  the  towns  were  insulted  wherever  they  ap- 
peared, and  were  forced  to  shut  themselves  up  in  their  houses 
from  the  exasperated  populace.* 

Nothing  is  more  interesting  to  those  who  love  to  study  the  ^f°g''^''j°'-''^_ 
intricacies  of  the  human  heart  than  the  effect  which  the  public  bury, 
danger  produced  on  Shrewsbury.  For  a  moment  he  was  again 
the  Shrewsbury  of  1688.  His  nature,  lamentably  unstable, 
was  not  ignoble ;  and  the  thought,  that,  by  standing  foremost 
in  the  defence  of  his  coimtry  at  so  perilous  a  crisis,  he  might 
repair  his  great  fault  and  regain  his  own  esteem,  gave  new 
energy-  to  his  body  and  his  mind.  He  had  retired  to  Epsom,  m 
the  hope  that  quiet  and  pure  air  would  produce  a  salutary  effect 
on  his  shattered  frame  and  wounded  spirit.  But  a  few  hours 
after  the  news  of  the  Battle  of  Beachy  Head  had  arrived,  he 

•  Burnet,    II.  63,  64.;  NBrcUstis  LuttrcU's  Diary.   July  7.   11.    1C90; 
London  Gazette,  July  H.  1690. 


278  msTOEr  of  ■eng'lakd. 

CHAP,  was  at  Whitehall,  and  had  offered  his  purse  and  sword  to  the 
^'^'  Queen.  It  had  been  in  contemplation  to  put  the  fleet  under 
the  command  of  some  great  nobleman  with  two  experienced 
naval  officers  to  advise  him.  Shrewsbury  begged  that,  if  such 
an  arrangement  were  made ,  he  might  be  appointed.  It  con- 
cerned, he  said,  the  interest  and  the  honour  of  every  man  in 
the  kingdom  not  to  let  the  enemy  ride  victorious  in  the  Channel; 
and  he  would  gladly  risk  his  life  to  retrieve  the  lost  fame  of  the 
English  flag.* 

His  ofi"er  was  not  accepted.  Indeed,  the  plan  of  dividing 
the  naval  command  between  a  man  of  quality  who  did  not  know 
the  points  of  the  compass,  and  two  weatherbeaten  old  seamen 
who  had  risen  from  being  cabin  boys  to  be  Admirals,  was  very 
-wisely  laid  aside.  Active  exertions  were  made  to  prepare  the 
allied  squadrons  for  service.  Nothing  was  omitted  which  could 
assuage  the  natural  resentment  of  the  Dutch.  The  Queen  sent 
a  Privy  Councillor,  charged  with  a  special  mission  to  the  States 
General.  He  was  the  bearer  of  a  letter  to  them  in  which  she 
extolled  the  valour  of  Evertsen's  gallant  squadron.  She  assured 
them  that  their  ships  should  be  repaired  in  the  English  dock- 
yards, and  that  the  wounded  Dutchmen  should  be  as  carefully 
tended  as  wounded  Englishmen.  It  was  announced  that  a 
strict  inquiry  would  be  instituted  into  the  causes  of  the  late 
disaster;  and  Torrington,  who  indeed  could  not  at  that  moment 
have  appeared  in  pubUc  without  risk  of  being  torn  in  pieces, 
was  sent  to  the  Tower.  ** 

During  the  three  days  which  followed  the  arrival  of  the 
disastrous  tidings  from  Beachy  Head  the  aspect  of  London  was 

•  Mary  to  William,  July  3.  10.   1690;  Shrewsbury  to  Caermartlien, 

•»  Mary  to  the  States  General,  July  12.;  Burchetfs  Memoirs;  An  im- 
portant Account  of  some  remarkable  Passages  in  the  Life  of  Arthur,  Earl 
of  Torrington,  1691. 

■WLLLIAM   AND   MABT.  279 

gloomy  and  agitated.     But  on  the  fourth  day  all  was  changed,    chap. 
Bells  were  pealing:  flags  were  flying:  candles  were  arranged -^^ 
in  the  windows  for  an  illumination:  men  were  eagerly  shaking 
hands  with  each  other  in  the  streets.     A  courier  had  that  mom- 
insr  an-ived  at  "Whitehall  with  great  news  from  Ireland. 




Abjuration  Bill;  brought  into 
the  House  of  Commons ,  V. 
234.  Its  provisions,  V.  236. 
Tyranny  of  its  last  clause,  V. 
236.237.  Thrown  out,  V.  238. 
Another  Abjuration  Bill  in- 
troduced into  the  House  of 
Lords,  V.  238.  Its  provisions, 
V.  238.  The  bill  committed, 
but  never  reported,  V.  239. 

Addison,  Joseph;  reference  to, 
IV.  98.  note. 

Admii-alty;  under  the  control 
of  James  II.,  IV.  13.  Its  ad- 
ministration confided  to  a 
board,  IV.  20.  A  new  Com- 
mission of,  issued,  V.  214. 

Aldrich,  Dean  of  Christchurch; 
one  of  the  Ecclesiastical 
Commissioners,  V.  135.  His 
character  and  abilities,  V. 
136.  Absents  himself  from 
the  meetings  of  the  Commis- 
sion, V. 137. 

Allegiance,  Oath  of;  required 
of  the  members  of  both  Hou- 
ses, IV.  31.  82.  Discussions 
on  the  bill  for  settling  the 
oaths  of,  IV,  99.  See  Oath  of 

Alexander  VIII.,  Pope;  his  ac- 
cession to  the  Papal  chair, 
V.  105.  Refuses  to  acknow- 
ledge the  bishops  appointed 
by  Lewis  XIV.  in  France,  V. 

Alsop,  Vincent;  his  zeal  in  fa- 
vour of  the  dispensing  power, 

IV.  72. 

Amsterdam;  public  rejoicings 
at,  on  the  accession  of  Wil- 
liam and  Mary,  IV.  3. 

Angus,  Earl  of;  raises  the  Ca- 
meronian  regiment,  V.  11. 

Annandale;  excesses  of  the  Co- 
venanters in,  IV.  249. 

Annandale,  Earl  of;  joins  the 
Club  of  Edinburgh,  IV.  296. 
Absents  himself  from  the 
command  of  his  regiment  at 
the  battle   of  Killiecrankie, 

V.  21.  His  regiment  routed, 
V.  27.  Brought  up  to  London 
by  a  warrant,  IV.  699.  V.  224. 

Anne,  the  Princess  (afterwards 
Queen);  incivility  of  William 
III.  to  her,  IV.  51.  Gives 
birth  to  a  son,  William  Duke 
of  Gloucester,  V.  61.  The 
King  acts  as  sponsor  at  the 

iNDiJC  TO  xiu;  jfouiixa  amd  i-u-ijul  volualks.      281 

baptism,  V.  61.  Annuities 
giantftl  to  her,  V.  224.  Not 
on  good  terms  with  the  King 
and  Uueen,  V.  '21i.  Her  stu- 
pidity, V.  225.  Her  fondness 
for  iLady  Marlborough,  V. 
225.  Her  bigotry,  V.  227. 
Boundless  influence  of  the 
Cliurchills  over  her,  V.  22S. 
A  Princess's  party  formed 
in  Parliament,  V.  229.  An- 
noyance of  the  Uueen  at  the 
conduct  of  the  Princess,  V. 
229.  An  annuity  of  fifty  thou- 
sand pounds  settled  on  her, 
V.  230.  Renewal  of  her  friend- 
ship with  tlie  Qiieen,  V.  231. 

Anne  8Bounty,Uueen;  founded 
by  the  perseverance  of  Pi- 
shop  Burnet,  IV.  78. 

Antrim;  migration  of  the  people 
of,  to  Londonderry,  IV.  1G3. 

Earl  of;  his  march  to  occupy 
Londonderry,  IV.  1-13.  Re- 
fused admittance  by  the  ci- 
tizens, IV.  M4.  Iletires  to 
Coleraine,  IV.  145. 

Apocrypha ;  discussions  re- 
specting the,  V.  155. 

Appin,  Stewarts  of,  IV,  316. 

Apprentices ;  the  thirteen  ,  of 
Londonderry,  IV,  144. 

Arbutus;  the,  in  Kerry,  IV.  lo.'j. 

Architecture;  the,  of  Hampton 
Court,  IV.  55.  A  favourite 
amusement  of  William  III., 
IV.  55.  "Wren's  additions  to, 
IV.  50. 

Argyle,  Earl  of  (father  of  Earl 
.\rchibald);  his  ambition  and 
intiuence  among  the  clan  of 

the  Campbells,  IV. 314.  His 
son  Archibald,  IV,  315.  His 
grandson,  IV,  270,  31G. 

Argyle,  ArchilKild,  Earl  of;  his 
defeat  of  the  confederacy 
formed  against  him,  IV.  315. 
Driven  into  exile,  IV.  315. 
His  return,  rebellion  and 
execution,  IV.  315.  His  son, 
IV.  270.316. 

Argyle,  I'^arl  of  (son  of  Earl 
Archibald) ;  presents  himself 
at  the  Convention  in  Edin- 
burgh, IV.  270.  Appointed 
one  of  the  Commissioners  to 
carry  the  instrument  of  go- 
vernment of  the  Scotch  Con- 
vention to  London,  IV.  2By. 
Keturns  to  Scotland  and 
claims  his  title  and  estates, 
IV. 31 6.  Empoweredby "Wil- 
liam HI.  to  raise  an  army  on 
his  domains  for  the  service 
of  the  Crown,  IV.  31G.  Alarm 
of  the  adjacent  chieftains, 
IV.  316,  317.  His  difficulty 
in  gathering  his  clan,  V.  10. 

Argyleshire;  possessions  of  the 
Macdonalds  in  the,  IV.  313. 

Armada;  the  Spanish,  IV.  62. 

Arminianism;  leaning  of  the 
High  Church  party  towards, 

IV.  94. 

Armstrong,  Sir  Thomas;  his 
case  examined  by  the  House 
of  Commons,  V.  190.  His 
ilight  and  arrest  at  Leyden, 

V.  190.  His  daughter,  V.  190. 
His  execution,  V.  191.  Ap- 
pearance of  his  daughter  at 
the  bar  of  the  House  to  de- 
mand vengeance,  V.  191. 



Anny;  its  discontent  on  the  ac- 
cession of  William  and  Mary, 
IV.  4.  Causes  of  this,  IV.  4. 
Its  alarming  conduct  in  va- 
rious places,  IV.  5.  Disaifec- 
tion  of  its  Scottish  corps,  IV. 
38, 89.  The  revolt  suppressed, 
IV.  42.  The  first  Mutiny  Bill, 
IV.  42.  No  standing  army 
under  the  Plantagenets  and 
Stuarts,  IV.  43.  Aversion 
of  every  party  in  the  state  to 
a  standing  army,  IV.  44. 
Its  maladministration  during 
the  reigns  of  Charles  U.  and 
James  11.,  IV.  61.  The  army 
of  James  U.  disbanded  by 
order  of  Feversham,IV.  267. 
State  of  the  English  Com- 
missariat, V.  90.  Villany  of 
the  Commissariat  of  the  army 
under  the  command  of 
Schomberg,  V.  166. 

Army,  Highland.  See  High- 

Army,  Irish;  its  numerical  force 
under  TjTconnel,  IV.  155. 
Low  station  of  many  of  the 
officers,  IV.  154.  Small  pay 
of  the  soldiers,  IV.  155.  The 
army  of  James  II.,  V.  83,  84. 
The  scandalous  inefficiency 
of  his  foot  soldiers,  V.  245. 

Articles  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land; the  clergy  relieved 
from  the  necessity  of  sub- 
scribing, IV.  94. 

Articles;  Lords  of  the,  of  the 
Scottish  Parliament,  V.  15. 

Athanasian  Creed;  discussed 
by  the  Ecclesiastical  Com- 
missioners, V. 139. 

Athol;  Blair  Castle  at,  V.  19. 
Troubles  in,  V.  17.  Jacobite 
leaning  of  the  men  of,  V.  18. 
Their  ravages  in  Argyle,  V. 
18.  Called  to  anns  by  two 
leaders,  V.  18.  They  join  the 
camp  at  Blair,  V.  35. 

Athol,  Marquess  of;  supported 
by  the  Jacobites  at  the 
Scottish  Conventions,  IV. 
270.  His  abilities  and  dis- 
honourable character,  IV, 
270.  His  part  in  the  Jacobite 
transactions  with  Dundee, 
IV.  278.  His  tardiness  and 
its  results,  IV.  278.  Refuses 
to  vote  on  the  resolution  that 
James  had  forfeited  his 
crown,  IV.  284.  His  power  in 
the  Highlands,  V.  17.  His 
faithless  character,  V.  18. 
Distrusted  by  both  Jacobites 
andWilliamites,V.  18.  Steals 
away  from  Scotland  and  set- 
tles at  Bath,  V.  18. 

Atkyns,  Sir  Robert;  appointed 
Chief  Baron,  IV.  23.  Chosen 
Speaker  of  the  House  of 
Lords,  V.  162. 

Attainder,  Act  of;  passed  by  the 
Irish  Parliament  of  James 
H.,  IV.  215,  Reversal  of  at- 
tainders in  the  first  Parlia- 
ment of  William  and  Mary, 

Auverquerque;  appointed  Mas- 
ter of  the  Horse,  IV.  24.  His 
courage,  IV,  25. 

Avaux,  the  Count  of;  his  cha- 
racter and  abilities,  IV.  167. 
Chosen  as  ambassador  to  aci 
company  James  11.  to  Ire- 

THT.   FOXntTH   AND   Fimi   TOLUMFS. 


land,  IV.  1G9.  His  instruc- 
tion-s,  IV.  169.  Sworn  of  the 
Pri\7  Council,  IV.  174.  Sup- 

Sorts  the  Irish  party,  which 
esires  to  be  placed  under 
the  government  of  France, 
IV.  180.  His  dislike  of  Mel- 
fort,  IV.  181.  Accompanies 
the  King  to  Ulster,  IV.  183. 
He  begs  Uie  King  to  return 
to  Dublin,  IV.  184.  Leaves 
the  King,  and  retraces  his 
steps  to  Dublin,  IV.  186.  lle- 
monstrates  with  James  to 
abstain  from  openly  oppo- 
sing the  repeal  of  the  Act  of 
Settlement,  IV.  212.  Per- 
Buades  the  King  not  to  allow 
Irish  Protestants  to  possess 
arms,  IV.  220.  His  character 
compared  with  that  of  Count 
Rosen,  IV.  230, 231.  His  atro- 
cious advice  to  James,  V.  81. 
His  counsel  rejected,  V.  82. 
His  opinion  of  the  Irish 
troops,  V.  83.  His  astonish- 
ment at  the  energy  of  the 
Irish  on  the  news  of  the  land- 
ing of  the  English ,  V.  Sf>. 
His  adjurations  to  James  to 

frohibit  marauding  in  the 
rish  infantry,  V.  245.  lie- 
called  to  France,  V.  249. 
Sends  atranslation  of  Penn's 
letter  to  James  to  Lewis,  V. 

Austria;  her  alliance  with  Eng- 
land in  the  great  coalition, 
IV.  122. 

Aylesbur}-,  Earl  of;  takes  the 
Oath  of  Allegiance  to  Wil- 

liam III.,  IV.  S2.  His  traitor- 
ous conduct,  V.  251. 
AjTshire;  disturbances  of  the 
Covenanters  in,  IV.  249.  The 
Covenanters  from,  called  to 
arms  in  Edinburgh,  IV.  280. 

Baker,  Major  Henr}-;  calls  the 
people  of  Londonderry  to 
arms,  IV.  190.  Appointed 
one  of  the  governors  of  the 
city,  IV.  194.  Dies  of  fever, 
IV.  228. 

Balcarras,  Colin  Lindsay,  Earl 
of;  his  station  and  character, 
IV.  267.  Meets  James  H.  at 
Whitehall,  IV.  267.  Greets 
William  at  St.  James's, 
IV.  267.  His  wife's  relation- 
ship to  William,  IV.  268. 
lletums  to  Scotland,  IV.  269. 
Prevails  on  the  Duke  of 
Gordon  to  hold  the  Castle  of 
Edinburgh  for  King  James, 
IV.  269.  273.  Applies  to  the 
Convention  for  assistance, 
IV.  275.  Arrested  and  im- 
prisoned in  the  Tolbooth, 
IV.  326. 

Balfour's  regiment,  V.  21. 
Broken  and  their  chief  killed 
at  Killiecrankie,  V.  27. 

Ballenach,  Stewart  of;  sum- 
mons the  clan  Athol  for 
King  James,  V.  19. 

Ballincarrig,  Castle  of;  taken 
and  destroyed  by  the  Ennis- 
killeners,  IV.  225. 

Bandon;  muster  of  the  Eng- 
lishry  at,  IV.  139.  Reduced 
by  Lieutenant  General 
Macarthy,  IV.  160. 


JLNDJiX  10 

Bantry  Bay;  naval  skiiinish 
between  the  English  and 
French  fleets  in,  IV.  200. 

Bapti«mal  service;  the,  dis- 
cussed by  the  Ecclesiastical 
Commissioners,  V.  138. 

Baptists;  relieved  by  the  To- 
leration Act,  IV.  83.  Large 
numbers  of,  at  the  time  of 
the  Revolution ,  IV.  96. 

Barillon;  end  of  his  political 
career,  IV.  166.  His  death, 
IV.  167. 

Batavian  federation;  joins  the 
great  coalition,  IV.  122. 
Manifesto  of,  declaring  war 
against  France ,  IV.  127. 

Bates,  IV.  88. 

Bavaria;  Elector  of,  occupies 
Cologne,  V.  102. 

Baxter,  Richard,  IV.  88.  Chari- 
table sentiments  expressed 
by  him  before  taking  the 
Oaths  of  Allegiance  and 
Supremacy,  IV.  89. 

Bayonet;  improved  by  General 
Mackay,  V.  37. 

Beachy Head;  battle  of, V. 272. 

Beatoun,  Cardinal,  IV.  274. 

Beaufort,  Henry  Somerset, 
Duke  of;  takes  the  Oath  of 
Allegiance  to  William  III., 

IV.  32. 
Beccaria,  IV.  88. 
Belhaven,    Lord;    commands 

a  regiment  at  Killiecrankie, 

V.  21.    His  gallantry  in  the 
battle,  V.  27. 

Belturbet;  action  between  the 
Enniskilleners  and  Roman 
Catholics  at,  IV.  226. 

Bentham,  Jeremy,  IV.  85. 

Bentinck  (afterwards  Earl  of 
Portland);  appointed  Groom 
of  the  Stole  to  William  111., 
IV.  24. 

Berry,  Lieutenant  Colonel; 
sent  to  the  assistance  of  the 
Enniskilleners,  IV.  240.  Sent 
to  raise  the  siege  of  the 
Castle  of  Crum,  IV.  241. 
Meets  Macarthy's  troops  at 
Newton  Butler,  IV.  242, 

Berwick,  Duke  of;  follows 
James  U.  to  Ireland,  IV.  166. 
Obtains  an  advantage  over 
the  Enniskilleners,  IV.  240. 

Beveridge;  his  Latin  sermon 
before  Convocation,  V.  154. 

Birch,  Colonel,  IV.  31.  His 
suggestions  for  stopping  the 
revolt  of  the  soldiery,  IV.  40. 
His  speech  on  the  gallantry 
of  the  people  of  London- 
derry IV.  224.  Opposes 
the  intemperate  motion  of 
Howe,  V.  71. 

Bishops ;  scanty  attendance  of, 
at  the  coronation  of  William 
and  Mary,  IV.  118.  (See 

Bishops,  Irish;  bill  brought 
into  the  Irish  Parliament 
for  deposing  all  of  them, 
IV.  213. 

Blackmore ;  his  Prince  Arthur 
referred  to,  IV.  24.  note. 
Reference  to  his  Alfred, 
IV.  309. 

Blackwell  Hall,  broadcloth  of, 

IV.  97. 

Blair  Castle,  V.  19.  Occupied 
by    Stewart    of   Ballenach, 

V.  20.     Summoned  by  Lord 



Muiray  to  surrender,  V.  20. 
liesiej;e(l  by  Lord  Murray, 
V.  21.  Tlie  siege  raised, 
V.  23.  Held  by  the  High- 
landers after  tne  buttle  of 
Killiecraiikie,  V.  32.  Sur- 
renders to  Mackay,  V.  43. 
Boom  Hall,  near  Londonderry, 

IV.  200. 

Hordcrers,    the  Kind's    Own, 

V.  21.  Commanded  by  Lord 
Leven  at  Killiecrankie, 
V.  21.  27. 

Boroughs,  Irish;  under  the 
influence  of  the  Roman  Ca- 
tholics, IV.  181.  132. 

Brandenburg ;  manifesto  of,  de- 
clai'ing  war  against  France, 
IV.  127. 

Breedlings;  the,  of  the  Fens, 
IV.  41. 

Brest  fleet;  placed  at  the  dis- 
posal of  James  II.,  IV.  105. 
Sails  for  Ireland,  and  lands 
James  at  Kinsale,  IV.  169. 

Brown,  Tom;  his  remarks  on 
the  I'resbyterian  divines, 
IV.  98.  note. 

Browning,  Micaiah  (master  of 
the  Mountjo>^;  breaks  the 
boom  in  thetoyle,  IV.  234. 
His  death,  IV.  235. 

Burnet,  Bishop;  his  generosity 
to  the  Earl  of  Kochester, 
IV.  33.  Appointed  to  the 
vacant  see  of  Salisbury, 
IV.  75.  Hated  by  the  Angli- 
can priesthood,  IV.  76.  His 
conversation  with  the  Queen 
respecting  the  duties  of 
bisnops,  IV.  78.  His  zeal  in 
performing  his  duty,  IV.  78. 

His  success  in  establishing 
Queen. \nne's  Bounty,  IV. 7  S. 
Ills  speech  inrarliament  for 
the  retention  of  the  last 
clause  of  the  Comprehension 
Act,  IV.  112.  His  endeavour 
to  make  the  clergy  an  excep- 
tion to  the  provisions  of  the 
bill  for  settling  the  oaths  of 
fealty,  IV.  114.  His  coro- 
nation seimon,  IV.  118,  110. 
Extract  from  it,  IV.  253.  note. 
His  efforts  to  uphold  prelacy 
in  Scotland,  IV.  257.  His 
desire  to  strike  out  the 
Athanasian  Creed  from  the 
Liturgy  altogether,  V.  138. 
His  share  in  tlie  construction 
of  the  Bill  of  Bights,  V.  1G3. 
His  sermon  at  Bow  Church 
on  the  fast  day,  V.  217.  note. 
The  King's  interview  with 
him  previous  to  his  expedi- 
tion into  Ireland,  V.  264. 

Burt,  Captain;  his  description 
of  the  Ilighlands  at  the  time 
of  the  Revolution,  IV.  299. 

Burton,  John  Hill;  reference 
to  his  History  of  Scotland, 
IV.  254.  note. 

Butler,  Captain;  leads  the 
forlorn  hope  at  the  assault 
on  Londonderry,  IV.  198. 
Takes  part  in  the  blockade, 

IV.  198. 

Cabal;  the,  the  originators 
of    parliamentary     bribery, 

V.  209. 

Caemiarthen ,  Marquess  of; 
Lord  Danby  created,  IV.  121. 
Attacked   by  Howe  in  the 


IKDJEi  10 

House  of  Commons,  V.  72. 
His  influence  in  the  Ministry, 
V.  181.  Implores  the  K-ing 
not  to  return  to  Holland, 
V.  194.  Continues  to  be 
President  under  the  new 
government,  and  in  reality 
chief  minister,  V.  202.  His 
ill  health,  V.  203.  Hi3  em- 
ployment of  parliamentary 
bribery,  V.  210.  Appointed 
to  be  chief  adviser  to  the 
Queen  during  William's  stay 
in  Ireland,  V.  2G3. 

Caillemot,  Count  de;  appointed 
Colonel  of  a  Huguenot 
regiment  under  Schomberg, 
V.  78. 

Calendar,  ecclesiastical;  re- 
vised by  the  Ecclesiastical 
Commission,  V.  138. 

Calvin,  John;  his  observance 
of  the  festival  of  Christmas, 
IV.  248. 

Calvinism;  leaning  of  the 
Low  Church  party  towards, 
IV.  94. 

Calvinistic  Church  govern- 
ment.    See    Presbyterians. 

Calvinists  of  Scotland,  IV.  248. 
See  Presbyterians. 

Cambon,  M. ;  appointed  to  the 
command  of  one  of  the 
Huguenot  regiments  under 
Schomberg,  V.  78. 

Cambridge;  population  of,  at 
the  time  of  the  Revolution 
of  1688,  IV. 41. 

Cambridge  University;  its  dis- 
gust at  the  proceedings  of 
the  Whigs  respecting  the 
Bill  of  Indemnity,  V.  200. 

Its  sjTnpathy  with  their 
victims,  V.  201. 
Cameron,  Sir  E  wan,  of  Lochiel ; 
his  surname  of  the  Black, 
IV.  317,  318.  His  personal 
appearance,  his  character, 
and  singular  talents,  IV.  318. 
His  patronage  of  literature, 
IV.  318.  His  homage  to  the 
house  of  Argyle,  IV.  319. 
Joins  the  Cavaliers,  IV.  319. 
Knighted  by  James  II., 
IV.  319.  Singular  compli- 
ment paid  to  him  in  the 
English  Court,  IV.  319.  His 
treatment  of  the  Sheriff  of 
Invernessshire,  IV.  320.  His 
dread  of  the  restoration  of 
the  house  of  Argyle,  IV.  320. 
The  gathering  of  the  insur- 
rectionary clans  at  his  house, 
IV.  328.  Opposes  the  pro- 
position of  Dundee  to  induce 
the  clans  to  submit  to  one 
command,  V.  5.  Macdonald 
of  Glengarry  quarrels  with 
him,  V.  6.  7.  Assembles  his 
clan  to  assist  Dundee  in 
Athol,  V.  21.  His  advice  to 
hazard  a  battle  at  Killie- 
crankie,  V.  23.  Influence  of 
his  physical  prowess,  V.  25. 
Endeavours  to  persuade 
Dundee  not  to  hazard  his 
life  in  battle,  V.  25.  Charges 
at  the  head  of  his  men  in  the 
thickest  of  the  fight,  V.  26. 
Pro  noses  to  give  Mackay 
battle  ayrain. 

ruled,  V. 
V.  89. 


V.  38.     Over- 
Retires    to 
ill    humour, 

TJU';  vouiiTU  ^'D  riyiu  voll'mks. 


Camerons;  thoir  dread  of  the 
restoration  of  the  jjouer  of 
the  house  of  Argyle,  IV.  3J0. 
Six  Ewan  Cameron,  IV.  317, 
et  seq. 

Camcronian  regiment;  raised 
by  the  Earl  of  Angus,  V.  11. 
Its  first  Lieutenant  Colonel, 
Cleland,  V.  11.  Its  rigid  Pu- 
ritanism, V.  12.  Its  chaplain 
Shields,  V.  12.  Ordered  to 
be  stationed  at  Dunkeld, 
V.40.  Attacked  by  the  High- 
landers, V.  41.  Kepulscs 
them,  V.  42. 

Campbells,  the;  jealousy  of 
the  Camerons  of  tlie  ascen- 
dency of  the,  IV.  313.  The 
ambition  of  Mac  Callum 
More,  IV.  314.  His  influence, 
IV.  314.  The  Marquess  of 
ArgyleinlG38, 1V.314.  The 
Campbells  defeated  at  the 
battle  of  Inverlochy.IV.  315. 
Earl  Archibald   of  Arg^'le, 

IV.  315.  His  son,  IV.  31(3. 
Insurrections  of  the  clans 
hostile  to  the,  IV.  328.  Dis- 
armed and  disorganized, 

Cannon,  General;  commands 
the  Irish  foot  at  Killie- 
crankie,  V.  21.  His  position 
in  the  field,  V.  24.  His  com- 
mand of  the  Highlanders 
after  the  death  of  Dundee, 

V.  36.  His  hesitations  and 
blunders,  V.  36.  Increasing 
disorders  in  his  camp.  V.  38. 
Some  of  the  Highland  chiefs 
Quitthecamp,V.  39.  Attacks 
theCameronians  atUunkeld 

and  18  repulsed,  V.  42.  His 
Highlanders  leave  for  their 
homes,  V.  42.  He  departs 
with  his  Ii-ish  troops  to  the 

Canterbury,  Archbishopric  of; 
its  former  importance  com- 
pared with  that  of  York, 
V. 149. 

Capel,  Sir  Henry;  appointed  a 
Commissioner  of  the  Trea- 
sury, IV,  21.  Signs  tlie  wiir- 
rant  for  the  arrest  of  Claren- 
don, V.  270. 

Carlingford;  destniction  of, 

Carstairs;  his  abilities  and  cha- 
racter, IV.  295.  Confidence 
reposed  in  him  by  "William 
III.,  IV.  296.  Named  chap- 
lain to  their  Majesties  for 
Scotland,  IV.  295. 

Cartwright,  Bishop  of  Chester, 
IV.  74.  Follows  James  II. 
to  Ii-eland,  IV.  1G6.  Sworn 
of  the  Privy  Council,  IV.  174. 
His  death,  IV.  220. 

Castle  Drummond,  V.  31. 

Castlemaine;  im])eached  and 
sent  to  the  Tower,  V.  176. 

Cavaliers;  their  torment  and 
ruin  of  dissenting  divines, 
IV.  83.  Their  sanguinary 
proscriptions,  V.  242. 

Cavan;  migration  of  the  Pro- 
testants of,  to  Enniskillen, 
IV.  163.  Victories  of  the 
Enniskilleners  in,  IV.  225. 

Cavanagh;  his  Keny  men, 
IV.  199. 

Cavendish,  Lady ;  presented  to 
'William  and 'Mary,    IV.  2. 



ITer  romance,  IV.  2.  note. 
Her  description  of  the  Court 
on  the  evening  of  the  pro- 
clamation, IV.  2. 

Celtic  clans  of  Scotland.  See 

Cibber,  Coiley;  his  Nonjuror, 
V.  133. 

Cirencester;  alarming  conduct 
of  the  troops  at,  IV.  5. 

Citters,  Van;  his  long  resi- 
dence in  England,  V.  199. 

Civil  List;  the,  of  the  seven- 
teenth century,  V.  221.  222. 

Charlemont;  arrival  of  James 
U.  at,  IV.  183.  Wretched 
condition  of,  IV.  183. 

Charles  I.;  his  judges  and  exe- 
cutioners excluded  from  the 
benefits  of  the  Act  of  Grace 
of  William  III.,  V.  240. 

Charles  II.;  his  indolence  and 
fondness  for  pleasure,  IV.  13. 
His  revenue,  IV.  35.  His 
vivacity  and  good  nature, 
IV.  .50.  Maladministration 
during  his  reim,  IV.  61.  His 
ignominious  dependence  on 
France,  IV.  62.  Treatment 
of  Scotland  during  his  reign, 
IV.  255.  Proposes  a  com- 
mercial treaty  between  Eng- 
land and  Scotland,  IV.  254. 
Offers  to  mediate  between 
the  Scottish  Parliament  and 
England,  IV.  255. 

('harles  II.,  of  Spain;  joins  the 
coalition  against  France, 
IV.  122.  Accused  by  Lewis 
of  leaguing  with  heretics, 
IV.  125.  Answer  of  Charles, 
IV,  126. 

Charleville;  muster  of  the 
Englishry  at,  IV.  138.  Taken 
from  the  Protestants  by  the 
Roman  Catholics,  IV.  160. 

Chateau  Renaud ,  Admiral 
Count  de;  skirmishes  with 
the  English  fleet  in  Bantry 
Bay,  IV.  200.  Returns  to 
Brest,  IV.  200. 

Chimney  Tax.  See  Hearth 

China,  porcelain  of;  origin  of 
the  taste  for,  in  England, 
IV.  56. 

Christmas;  festival  of,  reob- 
served  by  the  Calvinists  of 
Geneva,  IV.  248. 

Chrysostom;  deprivation  of, 
referred  to,  IV.  102. 

Church  of  England;  Arminia- 
nism  and  Calvinism  in  the, 

IV.  94.  "Rabbhng"  of  the 
Episcopalian  clergy  in  Scot- 
land, IV.  247,  248.  Form  of 
notice  served  on  them,  IV. 
250.  Wish  of  Low  Church- 
men to  preserV'C  Episcopacy 
in  Scotland,  IV.  257.  Opi- 
nions of  William  III.  about 
Church  government  in  Scot- 
land, IV.  258.  Comparative 
strength  of  religious  parties 
in  Scotland,  IV.  260.  Episco- 
pacy abolished  in  Scot- 
land, IV.  286.  An  Eccle- 
siastical Commission  issued, 

V.  135.  Proceedings  of  the 
Commission,  V.  136.  See 
High  Church;  Low  Church, 

Church  of  Scotland;  a  church 
established  by  law  odious  to 
Scotchmen,  IV.  246. 



(■luiichill,  John,  Bnron  (af- 
terwards Diiko  of  Marl- 
borouf^h) ;  created  Earl  of 
Marlborou},'h,  IV.  121.  See 
Marlborough,  Piarl  of. 

Churchmen;  their  determina- 
tion not  to  submit  to  super- 
cilious and  uncharitable  ru- 
ritans,  IV.  92. 

Claim  of  Right;  the,  of  the 
Scottisii  Convention,  IV. 
286.  The  clause  abolishing 
episcopacy  in  Scotland  in- 
serted, IV.  2S7. 

Clans,  Celtic,  of  Scotland.  See 

Clarges,  Sir  ITiomas;  his  no- 
tion of  a  vote  of  thanks  to 
the  King,  V.  234. 

Clarendon,  Lord  Chancellor; 
his  impeachment,  IV.  13. 

Clarendon,  Henry  Hyde,  Earl 
of;  refuses  to  take  the  Oath 
of  Allegiance  to  "William  III., 
IV.  33.  His  disp-aceful  con- 
duct, V.  251.  Evidence  of 
his  being  deeply  concerned 
in  the  Jacobite  schemes  of 
insurrection,  V.  263.  Re- 
ceives a  warning  from  ^^'il- 
liara,  V.  263.  Arrested  and 
lodged  in  the  Tower,  V.  270. 

Cleland,  William;  his  share  in 
the  insurrection  at  Both- 
well  Bridge,  IV.  274.  His 
enmity  to  the  Viscount  Dun- 
dee, IV.  275.  His  attain- 
ments and  character,  IV.  274. 
Appointed  T/ieutenant  Co- 
lonel of  the  Cameronian  re- 
giment, V.  11.  Repulses 
the  Highlanders  atDunkeld, 
Uocaulay^  UiHor]},  V, 

V.  41.  Shot  dead  in  thn 
streets,  V,  41. 

Clelands,  the,  IV.  275.  note. 

Clergj';  their  refusal  to  join  in 
the  triumph  of  "William  and 
Mary,  Causes  of  this,  IV.  4. 
Their  zeal  for  the  doctrine  of 
nonresistance,  IV.  4.  Deputa- 
tion of  the  London  citizens, 
to    welcome    "William   III., 

IV.  70.  Relieved  from  the 
necessity  of  subscribing  the 
Articles,  IV.  94.  Their  claims 
to  consideration  favourably 
regarded  by  the  AVhigs,  I"V. 
103,  104.  Vehemently  op- 
posed by  the  Tories,  1\.104, 
105.  Compelled  by  Act  of 
Parliament  to  take  the  oaths 
of  fealty  to  the  King  and 
Queen,  IV.  114.  Exert  them- 
selves to  sustain  the  spirit 
of  the  people  of  London- 
derry, IV.  194.  The  Irish 
Protestant  clergv  turned  out 
of  their  livings,  IV.  208.  An 
Act  passed  to  enable  the 
fugitive  Irish  clergy  to  hold 
preferment  in  England,  IV. 
223.  "Rabbling"  the  "cu- 
rates" in  Scotland,  IV.  247. 
248.  Divisions  among  the 
High  Church  party  respect- 
ing the  subject  of  the  oaths, 

V.  106.  Arguments  for  and 
against  taking  the  oaths,  V. 
107,  110.  The  "swearing 
clergy,"  V.  1 13.  The  abstird 
theory  of  government  of  the 
clergy,  V.  1 13.  A  great  ma- 
jority of  them  take  tiie  oaths, 
V.  117.     General  character 



of  the  nonjuring  clergy,  V. 
130  Their  temperate  Con- 
vocation, V.  142.  Ill  affected 
towards  the  King,  V.  143. 
Their  exasperation  against 
the  Dissenters  by  the  pro- 
ceedings of  the  Scotch  Pres- 
byterians, V.  146.  Consti- 
tution of  Convocation,y.  148. 
The  state  of  the  London  and 
country  clergymen  com- 
pared, V. 158.  Indulgence 
shown  by  the  King  to  the 
nonjui-ing  prelates,  V.  199. 
The  clergy  of  Scotland 
ordered  to  publish  the  pro- 
clamation, and  pray  for 
William  and  Mary,  IV.  285. 

Clifford ;  his  discovery  of  par- 
liamentary bribery,  V.  209. 

Clifford,  Mrs.,  the  Jacobite 
agent,  V.  257,  266,  267. 

"Club,"  the;  formed  in  Edin- 
burgh, IV.  296.  Its  mem- 
bers, IV.  296.  Its  ascendency 
in  the  Scottish  Parliament, 
V.  14.  Its  introduction  of  a 
law  aimed  at  the  Dalrym- 
ples,  V.  15.  Its  intrigues, 
V,  43,  44.  Decline  of  its  in- 
fluence, V.  44. 

Clydesdale;  "rabbling"  of  the 
clergy  in,  IV.  249. 

Coalition,  the  great,  against 
France;  formation  of,  IV. 
122.  The  states  forming  the 
coalition,  IV.  122. 

Coin,  base;  issue  of,  by  James 
II.  in  Ireland,  IV.  214. 

Coldstreams;  the,  at  the  skir- 
mish of  Walcourt,  V.  103. 

Coll  of  the  Cows,  IV.  323. 

Collects,  the;  as  altered  by 
Dean  Patrick,  V.  141. 

Collier,  Jeremy,  V.  125.  Be- 
comes a  nonjuror,  V.  126. 
His  service  to  English  litera- 
ture, V.  126.  His  talents  and 
character,  V.  126.  His  faults, 
V.  127. 

Cologne;  occupied  by  the 
Elector  of  Bavaria.    V.  102. 

Commissariat,  English ;  frauds 
of the,  V.  90. 

Committee  of  Murder  of  the 
House  of  Lords,  V.  176. 

Common  Prayer,  Book  of;  sub- 
limity of  the  diction  of  the, 
V.  141.  Compared  with  the 
Latin  Liturgies  of  the  Ro- 
man Catholic  Church,  V.  141. 
Altered  by  the  Ecclesiastical 
Commissioners,  V.  141. 

Commons.  See  House  of  Com- 

Comprehension;  the  question 
of,  IV.  80. 

Comprehension  Bill;  the,  of 
Nottingham ,  IV.  80.  Its  his- 
tory, IV.  89.  Allowed  to 
drop  by  general  concurrence, 
IV.  90.  Review  of  its  provi- 
sions, IV.  90.  91.  Dread  and 
aversion  of  the  Dissenters 
for,  IV.  95.  Division  of  the 
Whigs  respecting  the  Com- 
prehension Bill,  IV.  99.  De- 
bate in  the  House  of  Lords 
respecting  its  last  clause, 
IV.  110.  The  amendment 
lost,  IV.  112.  Sent  down  to 
the  Commons,  IV.  112.  Pro- 
posal to  refer  it  to  Convoca- 
tion, IV.  112.     The  plan  of, 

•illt;  i'OUKXH  AJSD  ii'll'Tll  VOLDALES. 


V.  133.  Causes  -wliiih  con- 
spired to  inflame  the  pa- 
rocliial  clergy  ajjainst  Cora- 
preheusion,  V.  KM.  135. 

Compton,  Bishop  of  London; 
heads  a  deputation  to  wel- 
come William  III.,  IV.  70. 
His  sujjport  of  Nottingham's 
Toleration  and  Comprehen- 
sion Bills,  IV.  91.  His  letter 
to  Archbishop  Sancroft  re- 
specting these  bills,  IV.  91. 
note.  Occupies  the  place  of 
the  primate  at  the  corona- 
tion of  William  and  Mary, 
IV.  118.  His  discontent  at 
the  news  of  Tillotson's  pro- 
spect of  the  primacy,  V.  152. 
Presides  at  the  meeting  of 
Convocation,  V.  153. 

Confiscations  of  the  property 
of  the  Protestants  in  Ire- 
land, IV.  207. 

Constable,  Lord  High,  IV.  118. 

Conventicle  Act;  its  provisions, 
IV.  82.  Its  harshness  re- 
laxed by  the  Toleration  Act, 
IV.  82. 

Convention,  the.  See  House 
of  Commons. 

Convention ,  Scottish ;  sum- 
moned by  William  HI., 
IV.  247.  Elections  for  the, 
IV.  247.  Letter  from  Wil- 
liam m.  to,  IV.  261.  266. 
Meeting  of  the,  IV.  270. 
Election  of  the  Duke  of  Ha- 
milton as  president,  IV.  271. 
Character  of  Scottish  states- 
men of  that  period,  IV.  272. 
Appointment  of  a  Committee 
of  Elections,  IV,  272.     The 

Convention  summnns  the 
Castle  of  I'Minburgh  to  sur- 
render, IV.  273.  lleceives  a 
letter  from  King  James, 
IV.  276.  Heads  the  letter 
from  William  III.  and  that 
from  King  James,  IV.  277. 
Passes  a  vote  binding  itself 
to  continue  sitting  notwith- 
standing any  mandate  in 
James's  letter  to  the  con- 
trary, IV,  277.  Contents  of 
James's  letter,  TV.  277.  Agi- 
tation and  close  of  the  sitting, 
IV.  278.  Flight  of  Viscount 
Dundee,  IV.  279.  Tumul- 
tuous sitting  of  the  Conven- 
tion, IV.  279.  Returns  a  let- 
ter of  thanks  to  King  Wil- 
liam, IV.  281.  A  Committee 
appointed  to  frame  a  plan  of 
government,  IV.  281.  An- 
drew Mackay  appointed  ge- 
neral of  the  forces  of  the 
Convention,  IV.  282.  Reso- 
lutions proposed  by  the 
Committee,  declaring  that 
King  James  had  forfeited  his 
crown,  IV.  284.  "William  and 
Mary  proclaimed,  IV.  285. 
TheClaim  of  Right,  IV. 285 
— 288.  The  Coronation  Oath 
revised,  IV.  289.  Discontent 
of  the  Covenanters  at  the 
manner  in  which  the  Con- 
vention had  decided  the 
question  of  ecclesiastical  po- 
lity, IV.  291.  Reassembhng 
of  the  Convention,  IV.  347. 
Act  turning  the  Convention 
into  a  Parliament,  V.  14. 
Act  recognising  William  and 



Mary  as  King  and  Queen 
V.  14.  Ascendency  of  the 
"Club,"  V.  14.  The  Act  of 
Incapacitation  earned,  V.  16. 
Conflict  between  the  Con- 
vention and  the  I,ord  High 
Commissioner  Hamilton, 
V.  16.  The  Parliament  ad- 
journed, V.  31. 
Convocation :  address  of  Par- 
liament to  William  IH.  to 
summon,  IV.  113.  Appoint- 
ed to  meet.  V.  135.,  V.  142. 
ITie  clergy  ill  affected  to- 
wards King  "William ,  V.  143. 
Constitution  of  the  Convo- 
cation, V.  148.  The  Convo- 
cations of  Canterbury  and 
York,  V.  149.  The  two 
Houses,  V.  150.  Election 
of  members,  V.  151.  The 
Convocation  meets,  V.  154. 
Beveridge's  Latin  sermon, 
V.  154.  The  High  Church 
partyamajority  in  theLower 
House,  V.  155.  The  King's 
waiTant  and  message,  V.  157. 
Difference  between  the  two 
Houses,  V.  157.  Presents  an 
address  to  the  King,  V.  157. 
The  Lower  House  proves 
unmanageable,  V.  158.  Pro- 
rogued, V.  159. 

(^ork;  its  present  state  com- 
pared with  its  condition  at 
the  time  of  the  Revolution, 
IV.  170.  Visit  of  James  IL 
to,  IV.  171. 

Cornish,  Henrj';  his  attainder 
reversed,  V.  48. 

Coronation     of   William    and 

Mary,  IV.  118.  The  coro- 
nation  medal,  IV.  119. 

Coronation  Oath;  discussion 
on  the  bill  for  settling, 
IV.  115.    lievisalofthe,  by 

'    the  Convention  of  Scotland, 

IV.  290. 

Coqioration  Act;  bill  for  re- 
pealing the,  IV.  109.  The 
debate  acljourned  and  not 
revived,  IV.  110. 

Corporation  Bill;  introduced 
into  the  Commons,  V.  181. 
Sacheverell's  clause,  V.  182. 
Sir  Robert  Howard's  motion, 

V.  182.  Tumultuous  debate 
on  the  bill,  V.  186.  The 
odious  clauses  lost,  V.  187. 

Corruption ,  parUaraentary ; 
rise  and  progress  of,  in  Eng- 
land, V.  206. 

Corrj'anick,  IV.  823.,  327. 

Cosmas  Atticus ;  deprivation 
of,  referred  to,  IV.  102. 

Cotton,  Sir  Robert;  his  opinion 
on  the  Coronation  Oath  Bill, 
IV.  117.  note. 

Council,  Privy;  the  first,  of 
William  UI.  sworn  in,  IV.  15. 

Covenanters;  disgust  of  rigid, 
at  the  reverence  paid  to  the 
holidays  of  the  Church, 
IV.  248.  The  Church  clergy- 
men "rabbled"  by  the  Co- 
venanters, IV.  249.  Fears 
of  the  elder  Covenanters 
respecting  the  proceedings 
of  their  riotous  brethren, 
IV.  250.  Their  outrages  in 
Glasgow,  IV.  251.  Their  in- 
flexible pertinacity  of  prin- 
ciple, IV.  272.  They  threaten 



the  life  of  Viscount  Dundee, 

IV.  27-i.,  275.  Tiieir  singu- 
larly savage  and  imphicable 
temper,  IV,  274.  The  Cove- 
nanters from  Ayrshire  and 
Lanarkshire  called  to  arras 
in  Edinburgh,  IV.  280.  Their 
discontent  at  the  manner  in 
which  the  Convention  had 
decided  the  question  of  ec- 
clesiastical polity,  IV.  291. 
Their  scruples  about  taking 
up  arms  for  King  "William, 

V.  9.  Their  deadly  hatred  of 
Dundee,  V.  10.  Their  suf- 
ferings at  his  hands,  V.  10. 
Determination  of  the  ma- 
jority  not  to  take  up  arms, 
v.  11. 

Coventry;  Commissioner  of 
the  Treasury,  IV.  13. 

Crane;  bears  a  letter  from 
James  to  the  Scottish  Con- 
vention, IV.  27G.  Admitted 
to  the  sitting,  IV.  27G. 

Crawford,  Earl  of;  apjjointed 
President  of  the  Scottish  Par- 
liament, IV.  293.  His  rigid 
Presbyterianism  ,  IV.  293. 
His  cliaracter,  IV.  293.  His 
poverty,  IV,  294. 

Cromwell,  Oliver;  his  position 
in  the  government  compared 
with  that  of  a  Prime  Mi- 
nister, IV.  13.  His  wisdom 
and  liberality  respecting  the 
freedom  of  trade  with  Scot- 
land, IV.  2.53. 

Crone  (a  Jacobite  messenger 
from  St.  Germains) ;  sets  out 
with  despatches  from  Eng- 
land, V.  255.  Betrayed  by  his 

companion,  Fuller,  V.  255. 
Arrested,  and  brought  to 
Whitehall,  V.  256.  brought 
to  trial,  V.257.  Found  guilty, 
V.  267.  Visited  by  Secretary 
Nottingham  in  Newgate, 
V.  267.  Kespited  for  a  week, 
V.  268.  Brought  before  the 
Privy  Council,  to  whom  he 
furinshes  important  infor- 
mation, V. 268. 

Crosses,  fiery,  in  Scotland, 
IV.  328. 

Cnmi,  Castle  of;  besieged  by 
Viscount  Mountcashel,  IV. 

Cumberland,  Dukedom  of; 
given  to  Prince  George  of 
Denmark,  IV.  120. 

Cunningham,  Colonel;  arrives 
at  Londonderry  with  rein- 
forcements for  the  garrison, 
IV.  188.  Treacherously  dis- 
suaded by  the  governor, 
Lundy,  from  landing,  IV. 
188.  Sentto  the  Gate  House, 
IV.  224. 

D'Alembert,  IV,  85. 

Dalkeith ,  Earl  of;  son  of  the 
Duke  of  Monmouth;  his 
marriage  to  the  Lady  Hen- 
rietta ilyde,  IV.  lis',  note. 

Dalrymple,  family  of;  its  ta- 
lents, misfortunes  and  mis- 
deeds, IV.  262.,  263. 

DalnTiiijle,  Sir  James,  of  Stair; 
chief  adviser  of  William  III. 
on  Scotch  matters,  IV.  262. 
Tales  told  of  him,  IV.  262. 
His  high  attainments  and 
station,  IV.  263.  Sketch  of 
his  career,  IV. 263.  Hislettex 



respecting  the  abolition  of 
episcopacy  in  Scotland,  IV. 
287.  Appointed  President  of 
the  Court  of  Session, IV.  294. 
Jealousy  of  the  Club  at  his 
prosperity  and  power,  V.  15. 
Takes  his  place  as  President 
of  the  Court  of  Session, 

Dalrymple,  Sir  John;  his  ser- 
vices rewarded  by  a  remis- 
sion of  the  forfeiture  of  his 
father's  estates,  IV.  264.  His 
talents  and  character,  rV.2G5. 
Frames  the  resolution  of  the 
Scottish  Convention  decla- 
ring the  throne  vacant,  IV. 
284.  Appointed  a  Commis- 
sioner to  carry  the  instru- 
ment of  government  of  the 
Scotch  Convention  to  Lon- 
don, IV.  289.  Appointed 
Lord  Advocate,  IV.  294. 
Law  aimed  by  the  Club  at 
his  father  and  him,  V.15. 

Daly;  one  of  the  judges  of  the 
Irish  Common  l^leas,IV.  130. 
Offends  the  Irish  House  of 
Commons,  IV.  206. 

Danby,  Thomas,  Earl  of;  his 
impeachment,  IV.  16.  Ac- 
cepts the  Presidency  of  the 
Council  under  William  III., 
IV.  16.  Public  feeling  re- 
garding him,  IV.  16.  Plis 
inveterate  enmity  to  Halifax, 
IV.  63.  He  withdraws  from 
Court,  IV.  63.  Created  Mar- 
quess of  Caermarthen,  IV. 
121.  See  Caermarthen,  Mar- 
quess of. 

Dartmouth ,     George    Legge, 

Earl  of;  takes  the  Oath  of 
Allegiance  to  William  111., 
IV.  33.     His  traitorous  con- 
duct, V.  251. 
Delamere,  Henry  Booth,  Lord, 

IV.  5.  Appointed  Chancellor 
of  the  Exchequer,  IV.  20.  His 
character,  IV.  65.  His  jea- 
lousy of  Mordaunt,  IV.  65. 
Resigns  the  Chancellorship 
of  the  Exchequer,  V.  203. 
Created  Earl  of  Warrington, 
V.204.  His  bitter  complaints, 

V.  204. 

Dennis,  Saint,  battle  of;  refer- 
ence to,  IV.  25. 

De  Kuyter,  Admiral,  IV.  61. 

Derry.     See  Londonderry. 

Derry,  Walker,  Bishop  of.  See 

Devonshii-e,  William  Caven- 
dish, Earl  of;  appointed  to 
the  High  Stewardship,  IV.  23. 
His  attachment  to  the  liber- 
ties of  England,  IV.  23.  Ab- 
sents himself  fi-om  Parlia- 
ment during  the  discussion 
on  the  Sacramental  Test,  IV. 
110.  Created  a  Knight  of  the 
Garter,  IV.  120.  Case  of, 
examined  by  the  House  of 
Lords,  V.  50.  The  sentence 
of  the  King's  Bench  reversed, 
V.  50. 

Diarmid;  the  children  of,  IV. 

Dispensing  power,  the,  V.  165. 

Dissenters;  the  first  legal  in- 
dulgence granted  to,  IV.  69. 
Their  gratitude  for  it,  IV.  72. 
Leniency  with  which  they 
were      regarded     by     Low 



Churchmen,  IV.  73.  Peculinr 
grievances  of  their  clerj;y, 
IV.  82.  The  Act  of  Unifor- 
mity, IV.  82.  The  Five  Mile 
Act,  IV.  82.  The  Conventicle 
Act,  IV.  82.  Their  dread  and 
aversion  of  Comprehension, 
IV.  95.  Influence  of  the  dis- 
senting minister  over  his 
tlock,  IV.  97.  Vahie  of  his 
position,  in  a  worldly  view, 
compared  with  that  of  a 
chaplain  of  the  Church  of 
England,  IV.  9S.  Attempt  to 
relieve  the  Dissenters  from 
the,  IV.  99. 
Division  lists;  first  printed  and 
circulated,  V.  199. 

Dodwell,  Professor  Henry;  his 
absurd  attempts  to  distin- 
guish between  the  depriva- 
tions of  1559  and  those  of 
1689,  IV.  103.  Included  in 
the  Act  of  Attainder  of  the 
Irish  Parliament,  IV.  217. 
Becomes  a  nonjuror,  V.  126. 
His  erudition,  V.  126.  His 
singular  works,  V.  127. 

Dohna,  Christopher  Cou^t  de ; 
his  "Memoires  Originaux 
sur  le  Ilegne  et  la  Cour  de 
Frederic  I.,  Roi  de  Prusse," 
quoted,  IV.  53.  note. 

Donegal;  the  Roman  Catho- 
lics defeated  at,  IV.  22&. 

Dorset,  Charles  Sackville,  Earl 
of;  appointed  Lord  Cham- 
berlain to  William  HI.,  IV. 
23.  HisgenerositytoDryden, 
IV.  23.  24. 

Douglas;  great  meeting  of  the 

Covenanters  in  the  parish 
church  of,  V.  10. 

Douglas,  Andrew;  Master  of 
thePlmMiix,  assists  in  relie- 
ving Londonderr)',  IV.  234. 

Dover,  Henry  .lermyn,  Lord; 
accompanies  James  H.  to 
Ireland,  IV.  1G6. 

Dromore ;  the  Protestants  make 
a  stand  at,  IV.  163. 

Drowes,  river;  Irish  forces  en- 
camped on  the,  IV.  240. 

Drj'den,  John;  deposed  from 
the  Laureateship,  IV.  23,  24. 
Treated  with  generosity  by 
the  Lord  Chamberlain  l)or- 
set,  IV.  24.  His  piteous  com- 
plaints ,  IV.  24.  Contempt  of 
the  honest  Jacobites  for  his 
whinings,  IV.  23.  His  con- 
versation with  Charles  U. 
about  poetry,  IV.  50.  The 
origin  of  Dr)-den's  medal,  IV. 
50.  note. 

Dublin;  Tyrconnel's  motto  on 
the  Castle  flag,  IV.  154. 
Entry  of  James  II.  into,  IV. 
173.  Its  condition  at  the  time 
of  the  Revolution,  IV.  173. 
Its  present  graceful  and  state- 
ly appearance,  IV.  173. 
Wretched  state  of  Dubhn 
Castle,  IV.  173.  The  new 
buildings  of  TjTConnel .  IV. 

173.  A  proclamation  issued 
convoking  a  Parliament,  IV. 

174.  Factions  at  the  Castle, 

IV.  176.  Alarm  of,  at  the 
news  from  the  North,  IV. 
244.  The  French  soldiers 
billeted  on  Protestants  in, 

V.  249. 


LNDUX  10 

Dublin  University;  fellows  and 
scholars  ejected  from,  and 
allowed  as  a  favour  to  depart 
insafety,  IV.  220,  221, 

Duinhe  Wassel;  Highland  title 
of,  IV.  302. 

Dumont's  Corps  Universel  Di- 
plomatique, IV.  127.  note. 

Dunciad,  the,  V.  35,  55. 

Dundallc;  Schomljerg's  en- 
trenchments near,  V.  91. 

Dundee,  John  Graham,  Vis- 
count; his  command  of  the 
Scottish  troops  stationed 
near  Watford  to  oppose  the 
Dutch,  IV.  266.  His  courage 
and  military  skill,  IV.  207. 
His  troops  disbanded,!  V.267. 
His  reception  by  James  II.  at 
Whitehall,  IV.  267.  Greets 
William  at  St.  James's,  IV. 
207.  Absurd  story  about 
WilHamlll.  andDundee,lV. 
268.  note.  He  returns  to 
Scotland  under  an  escort  of 
cavalry,  IV.  209.  Prevails  on 
the  Duke  of  Gordon  to  hold 
the  Castle  of  Edinburgh  for 
King  James,  IV.  269.  273. 
His  life  threatened  by  the 
Covenanters,  IV.  274.  His 
enemy,  William  Cleland,  IV. 
274.  Applies  to  the  Conven- 
tion for  assistance,  IV.  275. 
His  flight  from  Edinburgh, 
IV.  279.  His  fear  of  assassi- 
nation, IV.  279.  Retires  to 
his  country  seat  in  Scotland, 
rV.  324.  Letter  from  James 
to  him  intercepted,  IV.  325. 
Ordered  to  be  arrested,  IV. 
325.   Escapes  to  the  camp  of 

Macdonald  of  Kep])och ,  IV. 
326.  Succeeds  in  raising  the 
clans  hostile  to  the  Camp- 
bells, IV.  328.  Surprises 
Perth,  and  makes  some  Whig 
gentlemen  prisoners,  IV.  328. 
His  difficulties  with  the  High- 
landers, IV.  332.  Causes  of 
those  difficulties,  V.  1  —  5. 
Calls  a  Council  of  War  to  en- 
deavour to  induce  the  clans 
to  submit  to  one  command, 
V.  5.  Supported  by  the  Low- 
land Lords,  Dunfermline  and 
Dunkeld,  V.  5.  His  proposal 
for  placing  the  clans  under 
one  command  rejected  in 
council,  V.  6.  Applies  to  King 
James  for  assistance,  V. 
8.  The  assistance  promised, 
V.  8.  The  war  suspend- 
ed, V.  9.  Deadly  hatred  of  the 
Covenanters  for  Dundee,  V. 
10.  Summons  the  clans  for 
an  expedition  to  Athol,  V. 
21.  Sets  forth  for  Athol,  V. 
21.  Joined  by  Cannon  with 
Irish  foot,  V.  21.  Arrives  at 
Blair  Castle,  V.  22.  Defeats 
the  King's  troops  at  Killie- 
crankie,  V.  27.  IMortally 
wounded,  V.  28.  Effect  of 
his  death,  V.  32.  His  burial 
place,  V.  32. 

Dunfermline,  James  Seton, 
Earl  of;  supports  Dundee, 
V.  5. 

Dunkeld;  attack  of  the  High- 
landers on  the  Cameronian 
regiment  at,  V.  41. 

Dunkeld,     James     Galloway, 

THE   I'OUUTU  AND   I'lriU    VOLUMlkJ. 


Lord;  supports  Dundee, 

Duras,  Marshal;  his  dinasla- 
tion  of  the  Pahitinate,  IV. 

Durfcy,  Tom,  IV.  50. 

Dutch;  their  joy  and  festivi- 
ties on  the  accession  of  Wil- 
liam III.,  IV.  2.  Favours  be- 
stowed on  those  who  stood 
hii^hcst  in  tlieKinjj's  esteem, 
IV.  24.  The  Dutch  army  in 
England  suppresses  the  re- 
volt of  the  soldiers  at  Ipswich, 

IV.  41,  42.  Trefcrence  of 
William  III.  for  liis  Dutch 
favourites, IV.  59.  Their  tide- 
litv  to  him,  IV.  59.  Dutch 
soldiers  at  the  coronation  of 
William  and  Mary,  IV.  119, 
Unfavourable  oi)inion  enter- 
tained of  them  by  the  Pres- 
byterians, IV.  290.  note. 
Tneir  murnuirings  at  Wil- 
liam's partiality  forEngland, 

V.  101.  Ill  treated  by  Tor- 
rington  at  the  battle  of 
Beachy  Head,  V.  272.  Their 
bravery,  V.  272. 

.Easter  Monday;  sitting  of  Par- 
liament on,  IV,  113. 

Ecclesiastical  polity;  views  of 
William  III.  respecting,  IV. 
74,  Opinions  of  the  Earl  of 
Nottingham  concerning,  IV. 

Ecclesiastical  Commission;  one 
issued,  V.  135.  Their  pro- 
ceedings, V.  136. 

Edinburgh;  state  of,  at  the 
time  of  the  llevolution,  IV, 

251.  The  Castle  held  by  the 
Duke  of  Gordon  forJuines  II., 
IV.  251.  The  College  of 
Justice  disarm  themselves 
ou  William's  proclamation 
being  issued,  IV.  251.  Arri- 
val of  Covenanters  from  the,  IV.  251.  TiielJishop 
of  Edinburgh  officiates  at 
the  Scottish  Convention,  IV. 
270.  The  Castle  summoned 
by  the  Convention  to  sur- 
render, IV.  273.  Kefusal  of 
Gordon  to  submit  to  the  sum- 
mons, IV.  273.  The  Earl  of 
Leven  calls  the  people  to 
arms,  IV.  280.  Gordon  urged 
by  the  Jacobites  to  fire  on 
the  city,  IV.  281.  He  refuses, 
IV.  282.     ^A'illiam  and  Mary 

froclaimcd  in  Edinburgh, 
V.  285.  Formation  of  the 
"Club,"  IV.  29G.  TheTol- 
booth,  IV.  315.  32(5.  Sur-" 
render  of  the  Castle  to  King 
William's  troons,  V.  12.  The 
session  of  Parliament  at 
Edinburgh,  V.  13.  Panic  in 
Edinburgh  at  the  news  of  the 
battle  of  Killiecrankie,  V.Sl. 
Sittings  of  the  Courts  of  Jus- 
tice recommenced,  V.  44. 

Eland,  T<ord;  his  defence  of 
his  father  Halifax  in  the 
Commons,  V,  76. 

Elections,  Committee  of;  ap- 
pointed by  the  Scottish  Con- 
vention, IV.  272. 

Elizabeth,  Queen;  the  schism 
of  her  reign,  IV.  95,  Her  re- 
jection of  the  bishops,  IV. 



Ely  Cathedral,  IV.  41. 

Emigration  of  the  English 
from  Ireland,  IV.  134. 

England;  the  Toleration  Act 
a  specimen  of  the  peculiar 
virtues  and  vices  of  English 
legislation,  IV.  84.  The  prac- 
tical element  always  prevails 
in  the  English  legislature, 

IV.  85.  Declares  war  against 
France,  IV.  128.  Discontent 
in  England  at  the  news  of 
the  arrival  of  James  in  L'e- 
land,  IV.  174.  Effect  pro- 
duced in  England  at  the 
news  of  the  persecutions  in 
Ireland,  IV.  222.  Question 
of  a  Union  between  England 
and  Scotland  raised,  I  v.  252. 
Hatred  of  the  English  for 
the  Highlanders  in  1745,  IV. 
308.     A   strange    reflux  of 

fublic  feeling  in  their  favour, 
V.  308.  Concludes  a  treaty 
with  the  States  General,  V. 
102.  A  general  fast  pro- 
claimed, V.  217.  Alarming 
symptoms  of  a  Jacobite  out- 
break in  the  north  of  Eng- 
land, V.  253.  Danger  of  in- 
vasion and  insurrection,  V. 
268.  Tourville's  fleet  in  the 
Channel,  V.  268.  France 
successful  on  land  and  at  sea, 

V.  274.  Alarm  of  England, 
V.  274.  Spirit  of  the  nation, 
V.  275.  Antipathy  of  the 
English  to  the  French,  V. 

Enniskillen;  one  of  the  prin- 
cipal strongholds  of  the 
Englishry  at  the  time  of  the 

Revolution,  IV,  139.  Its  si- 
tuation and  extent  at  that 
period,  IV.  140.  Its  boasted 
Protestantism,  IV.  140.  Its 
determination  to  resist  Tyr- 
connel's  two  regiments  being 
quartered  on  them,  IV.  140. 
Its  arrangements  for  defence, 
IV.  141.  Gustavus  Hamilton 
appointed  governor  by  his 
townsmen,  IV.  141.  Sends  a 
deputation  to  the  Earl  of 
Mountjoy,  TV.  147.  Opera- 
tions of  the  Irish  troops 
against  the  Enniskilleners, 
IV.  240.  Ileceives  assistance 
fromKirke,  IV.  240.  Colonel 
Wolseley  and  Lieutenant 
Colonel  Berry,  IV,  240.  De- 
feat the  Irish  at  Newton 
Butler,  IV.  242.  Actions  of 
the  Enniskilleners,  IV.  225. 

Episcopacy  abolished  in  Scot- 
land, IV.  286. 

Equity;  gradually  shaping  it- 
self into  a  refined  science, 
IV.  22. 

Erne,  Lough,  IV.  140. 

Error,  writs  of,  V.  51. 

Essex,  Arthur  Capel,  Earl  of; 
Committee  of  the  House  of 
Lords  to  examine  into  the 
circumstances  of  his  death, 

Estates  of  the  Realm:  their 
annual  grant  respecting  the 
government  of  the  soldiery, 
IV.  47. 

Eucharist;  the  question  of  the 
posture  at  the,  discussed  by 



the  Ecclesiastical  Commis- 
sioners, V.  137. 

Euler,  IV.  85. 

Eustace;  his  Kildare  men,  IV. 

Exchequer,  Court  of,  in  Ire- 
land; Stephen  Rice  appoint- 
.  eil  Chief  Baron  of  tne,  IV. 
130.  Abuses  of,  under  Kice, 
IV.  131. 

Exchequer  Chamber;  corona- 
tion feast  in  the,  IV.  118. 

Exclusion  Bill;  reference  to 
the,  IV.  105. 

Evertsen,  Admiral  of  the  Dutch 
auxiliary  lleet;  joins  Tor- 
rington  at  St.  Helens,  V. 
2f)9.  Hisbraveryatthe  battle 


ofBeachyllead,  V.  272 

Farquharsons,  the;  their  ar- 
rival at  the  camp  at  Blair,  V. 

Fast,  public;  proclaimed  by 
William  III.,  V.  217. 

Fens;  state  of  the,  at  the  pe- 
riod of  the  Revolution,  IV. 
41.  Their  population,  IV. 

Ferguson,  Robert;  appointed 
to  a  sinecure  in  the  Excise, 
IV.  26.  His  seditious  cha- 
racter, V.  218.  His  services 
rewarded  by  government,  V. 
218.  Eagerly  welcomed  by 
the  Jacobites,  V.  219. 

Feversham;  orders  the  dis- 
banding of  the  royal  army, 
IV.  267. 

Finch,  Sir  Heneage;  his 
opinion  on  the  Coronation 

Oath  Bill,  IV.  116.  note. 
His  attempt  to  defend  his 
conduct  as  counsel  aguiiiftt 
Russell,  V.  47.  Refusal  of 
the  House  to  hear  him,  V. 

Fitton,  Alexander,  Lord  Chan- 
cellor of  Ireland;  his  cha- 
racter, IV.  129.  His  mode  of 
dispensingjustice,  IV.  130. 

Fitzwilliam,  John,  canon  of 
Windsor;  becomes  a  non- 
juror, V.  129.  His  intimacy 
with  Lord  Russell,  V.  129. 

Five  Mile  Act;  a  grievance  to 
the  dissenting  clergy,  IV. 

Fleet,  the  English;  naval  skir- 
mish between  the  English 
and  French  fleets,  IV.  200. 
Battle  of  Beachy  Head,  V. 

Fletcher,  Andrew,  of  Saltoun; 
extract  from  his  work,  IV. 
253.  note.  His  erroneous 
political  opinions,  IV.  297. 
JoinstheClub,  IV.  297. 

Fleurus,  battle  of,  V.  274. 

Foreign  affairs;  direction  of, 
resen-ed  to  himself  by  Wil- 
liam III.,  IV.  14.  Sir  William 
Temple,  IV.  14.  Ably  ma- 
naged by  William,  IV.  67. 

Fowler,  Edward;  appointed 
one  of  the  Ecclesiastical 
Commissioners,  V.  135. 

Foyle,  river;  flocks  of  wild 
swans  on  the,  IV.  142.  Bridge 
over  the,  IV.  144.  Lord 
Galmov's  encampment  on 
the,  IV.  199. 

Frampton,    Bishop  of   GIou- 



cester;  becomes  a  nonjuror, 
.,  V.  118. 

France;  European  coalition 
against  her  ascendency,  IV. 
15.  Declares  war  against  the 
States  General,  IV.  38.  Her 
military  greatness  at  the 
close  of  the  17th  century, 
IV.  43.  A  formidable  enemy 
at  the  accession  of  ^V'illiaiu 
HI.,  IV.  62.  Formation  of 
the  great  coalition  against, 
IV.  122.  V.  101.  War  de- 
clared against,  IV.  127.  As- 
sistance afforded  bv  her  to 
James  II.,  IV.  164.'  Choice 
of  a  French  ambassador  to 
accompany  James,  IV.  166. 
Naval  skirmish  between  the 
English  and  French  fleets, 
IV.  200.  War  raging  all 
round  her,  V.  102. 

Frankenthal,  plains  of;  devas- 
tated by  Marshal  Duras,IV. 

Frazers,  the,  IV.  327.  Their 
arrival  at  the  camp  at  Blair, 

"French  are  coming,"  the  cry, 
V. 276. 

French,  the;  army  of  Lewis 
XIV.  commanded  by  Mar- 
shal Ilumiores,  V.  103.  Its 
skirmish  with  the  Dutch  and 
English  at  Walcourt,  V. 

Friday,  Black,  IV.  103. 

Fuller,  William  (Jacobite  mes- 
senger); his  early  life,  V. 
254.  Sent  from  St.  Germains 
with  Jacobite  despatches  to 
England,  V.  255.     Betrays 

the  cause  of  the  Jacobites, 
V. 255. 
Fyne,  Loch,  IV.  316. 

Gaels.  See  Highlanders. 

Galmoy,  Lord ;  his  part  in  the 
siege  of  Londonderry,  IV. 

Gardening;  a  favourite  amuse- 
ment of  WilUam  HL,  IV. 
55.  The  gardens  of  Hampton 
Court,  IV.  56. 

Garry,  the  river,  V.  19.  23. 

Garter,  the,  given  by  James  II 
to  Lauzun,  IV.  164. 

George  II.;  nicknamed  the 
Butcher,  IV.  308. 

George  IV.;  his  court  atHoly- 
rood,  IV.  310. 

George,  Prince  of  Denmark; 
created  Duke  of  Cumber- 
land, IV.  120.  Offers  to  ac- 
company William  to  Ireland, 
V.  265.  Unpolitely  treated 
by  William,  V.  265. 

Germanic  federation;  joinsthe 
great  coalition,  IV.  122.  Ma- 
nifesto of,  declaring  war 
against  France,  IV.  127. 

Germany,  Emperor  of;  con- 
cludes a  treaty  with  the 
States  General,  V.  102. 

Gibbons, Grinling;  his  carvings 
at  Hampton  Court,  IV.  56. 

Ginkell,  General;  sent  to  sup- 
press the  revolt  of  the  Scotch 
regiments  at  Ipswich,  IV.  41. 

Glasgow;  the  cathedral  at- 
tacked by  the  Covenanters, 
IV.  251.  Extentof  the  town, 

Tnr;  FounTn  and  FTFrn  voutmi-s. 


IV.  2-)5.    Archbishop  of,  IV. 
282. 284. 

Clengariff,  pass  of,  IV.  138. 

Gloni^arrv;  its  state  at  the  time 
of  the  kevohitinn  compared 
with  its  present  condition, 
IV.  328. 

r.lenroy.  Lake  of,  IV.  323. 

Gloucester,  A\'illiam,  Duke  of 
(son  of  the  Trincess  Anne); 
his  birth  and  baptism,  V. 

Godolphin,  Sidney ;  nominated 
Oomniissioner  of  the  Trea- 
SU17,  IV,  20.  His  usefuhiess, 
IV.  20.  Hated  by  his  col- 
leagues, IV.  65.  His  superio- 
rity over  them  in  financial 
knowledge,  IV.  65.  His  re- 
tirement from  the  Treasury, 

Goldsmith,  Oliver;  his  dislike 
for  the  Highlands  of  Scot- 
land at  the  time  of  the  Revo- 
lution, IV.  300.  His  compari- 
son of  Holland  with  Scot- 
land, IV.  300.  note. 

Gordon,  Duke  of;  prevailed  on 
by  Dundee  and  Balcarras  to 
hold  the  Castle  ofEdinburgh 
for  King  James,  IV.  269. 273. 
His  communication  ■with 
Dundee, IV. 279.  Requested 
by  the  Jacobites  to  fire  on 
the  city,  IV.  28 1 .  His  refusal, 
IV.  282.  Besieged  in  the 
Castle  ofEdinburgh,  V.  12. 
Polite  and  facetious  mes- 
sages between  the  besiegers 
and  the  besieged,  V.  12.  Sur- 
renders the  Castle  to  Wil- 
liam's troops,  V.  13. 

Gomianstown,  Lord;  his  part 
in  the  siege  of  Londonderry, 

IV.  199. 

Government;  the  "\ATiig  theory 
of.  IV.  11.  The  first,  of  Wil- 
liam HI.,  IV.  15.  General 
maladministration  from  the 
Restoration  to  the  Revolu- 
tion, IV.  60.  Absurd  theory 
of,  as  taught  by  the  clergy  of 
the  time  of  the  Revolution, 

V.  113. 

Grace,  Act  of;  the,  of  Wil- 
liamlll.  forpolitical  offences, 
V.  240.  Distmctions  between 
an  Act  of  Grace  and  an  Act 
of  Indemnity,  V.  240.  The 
Act  passed,  V.  241.243. 

Grafton,  Henry  Fitzroy,  Duke 
of;  rumours  of  his  determi- 
nation to  join  his  uncle  at 
Saint  Germains,  IV.  32. 
Takes  the  Oath  of  Allegiance 
to  William  and  Mary,  IV.  32. 
Carries  the  King's  crown  at 
the  coronation,  IV.  118. 

Grameis,  the  lost  epic  Latin 
poem  of  Phillipps,  IV.  329. 

Granard,Lord;  one  of  the  Peers 
of  James's  Irish  Parliament; 
enters  his  protest  against  the 
repeal  of  the  Act  of  Settle- 
ment, IV.  212. 

Grants,  the,  IV.  827.  Join 
Mackay,  IV.  332.  Their  ter- 
ritory invaded  by  the  Came- 
rons,  V.  6. 

Gustavus,  King  of  Sweden,  IV. 

GwjTi,  member  of  the  House  of 
Commons,  IV.  109.  note. 


UfDEX  10 

Habeas  Corpus  Act;  suspen- 
sion of  the,  IV.  47.  Sarcasm 
and  invectWe  caused  by  the 
measure,  IV.  48. 

Hales,  Sir  Edward;  his  im- 
peachment for  high  treason, 
V.  176.  Committed  to  the 
Tower,  V.  176. 

Halifax,  George  Savile,  Mar- 
quess of;  his  part  in  the  pro- 
clamation of  William  and 
Mary,  IV.  1.  His  remark  on 
the  reactionary  feeling  of  the 
people,  IV.  10.  Takes  charge 
of  the  Privy  Seal,  IV.  17. 
Public  feeling  regarding  him, 

IV.  17.  Declines  the  oner  of 
the  Great  Seal,  IV.  21.  His 
alann  at  the  revolt  of  the 
soldiers  at  Ipswich,  IV.  39. 
His  antipathy  to  Uanby,  IV. 
63.  Load  of  public  business 
imposed  on  him,  IV.  64.  His 
distra'ctions ,  caused  by  the 
jealousies  and  quarrels  of  his 
subordinates,  IV.  64,65.  Not 
in  the  list  of  promotions  at 
the  coronation,  IV.  121.  His 
cautious  policy,  IV.  12  Ca- 
lumnious accusation  brought 
against  him,  IV.  148.  At- 
tacked by  Howe  in  the  House 
of  Commons,  and  by  Mon- 
mouth in  the  Lords,  V.  73,74. 
His  letter  to  Lady  Russell, 

V.  75.  Absolved  by  a  majo- 
rity of  the  Commons,  V.  76. 
Ketires  from  the  Speaker- 
ship of  the  House  of  Lords, 
V.  161.  Examined  by  the 
Murder  Committee  of  the 
House  of  Lords,  V.  177.  De- 

fended by  Seymour  in  the 
Lower  House  against  the  at- 
tacks of  John  Hampden,  V. 
180.  Abatement  of  the  ani- 
mosity of  the  House  againat 
him,  V.  180.  His  resignation 
ofthePrivySeal,  V.  202. 

Hamilton,  Duke  of,  supported 
by  the  Whigs  in  the  Scottish 
Convention,  IV.  270.  His 
character,  IV.  270.  Elected 
president  of  the  Convention, 
IV.  271.  His  fierce  address 
to  the  members  of  the  Con- 
vention, IV.  279.  Declared 
Lord  High  Commissioner  of 
Scotland,  IV.  293.  His  dis- 
content, V.  14.  His  refusal 
to  pass  the  Acts  of  the  Con- 
vention, V.  16. 

Hamilton,  Anthony;  severely 
wounded  at  the  battle  of 
Newton  Butler,  IV.  241. 

Hamilton,  GustavTis;  appoint- 
ed governor  of  Enniskillen, 
IV.  141. 

Hamilton, Richard;  his  foreign 
military  service,  IV.  151.  His 
distinguished  wit,  IV.  151. 
Sworn  of  the  Irish  Privy 
Council,  IV.  151.  Sent  to 
negotiate  with  Tvrconnel, 
IV.  152.  His  perfidy,  IV.  152, 
153.  His  march  into  Ulster 
with  an  army,  IV.  162.  Ter- 
ror of  his  name,  IV.  162. 
Marches  against  the  Protes- 
tants of  the  North,  IV.  170. 
Rosen  and  Maumont  placed 
over  his  head,  IV.  186.  Ap- 
pointed second  in  command 
at  the  siege  of  Londonderry, 

THE  yODUTH  AND   FIFTH   VOL0ili;8. 


IV.  196.  Takes  the  chief 
command  at  the  death  of 
Maumoiit,  IV.  197.  Super- 
seded in  the  chief  command 
by  Count  Rosen,  IV.  228. 
Rosen  recalled,  and  Hamil- 
ton again  assumes  the  chief 
command,  IV.  231.  His  tricks 
and  lies  to  discourage  the  he- 
sieged,  IV.  231. 

Hamilton,  the  Rev.  Andre^v,  of 
Enniskillen,  IV.  141.  note. 

Hampden,  John;  presides  at  a 
committee  to  present  an  ad- 
dress to  "William  III.  on  the 
barbarities  of  I-ew-is  of 
France,  IV,  127.  His  power 
and  prosperity,  V.  177.  His 
malevolence,  V.  178.  His  dis- 
graceful appearance  before 
the  Murder  Committee  of  the 
House  of  Lords,  V.  179.  His 
bitter  speech  in  a  committee 
of  the  ■whole  House  of  Com- 
mons, V.  180.  Excluded  from 
the  new  House  of  Commons 
at  the  general  election  of 
1690,  V.  202. 

Hampden,  Richard;  appointed 
a  Commissioner  of  the  Trea- 
sury, IV.  21.  His  objections 
to  Aaron  Smith  as  Solicitor 
to  the  Treasury,  IV.  26.  Ap- 
pointed Chancellor  of  the 
Exchequer,  V.  213. 

Hampton  Court;  removal  of 
the  Court  to,  IV.  54.     The 

falace  of  Cardinal  Wolsey, 
V.  55.     The   gardens   and 
buildings    of  "William  III., 
IV.  56. 
Harbord,  William,  member  for 

Launceston;  informs  the 
House  of  the  revolt  of  the 
Scotch  troops,  IV.  40. 

Harlots;  the  brokers  of  the 
Court  of  Charles  II.,  IV.  61. 

Hastings's  regiment,  V.  21.  Its 
unbroken  order  at  Killie- 
crankie,  V.  27.  30. 

"Hear,  hear,"  origin  of,  in  Par- 
liament, IV.  30. 

Hearth  money,  or  chimney  tax; 
its  unfairness,  IV.  36.  Abo- 
lished at  the  request  of  Wil- 
liam III.,  IV.  37. 

Hebrides;  possessions  of  the 
Macdonalds  in  the,  IV.  313. 

Heidelberg;  destroyed  by  the 
French  under  Marshal 
Duras,  IV.  124. 

Heinsius,  Anthony,  Pensiona- 
ry of  Holland,  IV.  67.  Causes 
of  the  aversion  with  which 
he  regarded  France,  IV.  68. 
His  conespondence  with 
William  HI.,  IV.  68.  His  im- 
portance after  the  death  of 
William,  IV.  69. 

Henderson,  Major;  takes  the 
command  of  the  Camero- 
nians  after  the  death  of  Co- 
lonel Cleland,  V.  41.  Mor- 
tally wounded,  V.  41. 

Herbert,  Arthur,  Rear  Admiral 
of  England ;  appointed  first 
Commissioner  of  the  Admi- 
ralty, IV.  20.  His  services  to 
his  country,  IV.  20.  Skir- 
mishes with  the  French  fleet 
in  Bantry  Bay,  IV.  200.  Vote 
of  thanks  to  Herbert  passed, 
IV.  200.     Returns  with  his 



squadron  to  Portsmout]i ,  V. 

Hewson ;  the  Scotch  fanatic  of 
Londonderry,  IV.  194. 

Hickes,  George,  Dean  of  Wor- 
cester; becomes  a  nonjuror, 
V.  124.  His  learning,  V.  124. 
His  views  of  passive  obedi- 
ence, V.  124.  His  brother 
John,  V,  124.  His  bigotry, 
V.  124. 

Hickes,  John,  V.  124. 

High  Church  party;  the,  of  the 
reign  of  AVilliam  IH.,  IV.  69. 
Origin  of  the  tenn,  IV.  G9. 
Tenderness  of  their  regard 
for  James  II.,  IV.  71.  Their 
distaste  for  the  Articles ,  IV. 
94.  Their  leaning  towards 
Arminianism,  IV.  94.  Their 
numerical  strength  in  the 
House  of  Commons,  IV.  113. 
The  High  Church  clergy  di- 
vided on  the  subject  oi  the 
Oaths  of  Supremacy  and 
Allegiance,  V.  IOC.  They 
constitute  a  majority  of  the 
Lower  House  of  Convoca- 
tion, V.  1.55.  Their  refusal  to 
deliberate  on  any  plan  of 
comprehension,  V.  157. 

High  Commission  Court,  IV. 
1 0.  Its  decrees  every  where 
acknowledged  to  be  nulli- 
ties, V.  48. 

Highlands;  breaking  out  of 
war  in  the,  IV.  298.  Their 
state  at  that  period,  IV.  299. 
Captain  Burt's  descriptions 
of  them,  IV.  299.  Oliver 
Goldsmith's  opinion  of  them, 
IV.  300.  Hardships  endured 

by  travellers  in,  IV.  30.3.  The 
politics  of  the  Highlands  not 
understood  by  the  govern- 
ment, IV.  330.  Viscount 
Tarbet,  IV.  330.  Smallness 
of  the  sum  required  to  settle 
the  discontented,  IV.  330. 
Poverty  of  the  Celtic  chiefs, 
IV.  331.  Mackay's  indecisive 
campaign  in  the  Highlands, 

IV.  331.  The  war  suspended, 

V.  9.  The  Cameronian  regi- 
ment raised,  V.  11.  The  war 
breaks  out  again,  V.  20.  Shut 
out  by  a  chain  of  posts  from 
the  Lowlands,  V.  43. 

Highlanders;  their  characte- 
ristics at  the  time  of  the  Re- 
volution, IV.  302.  Their 
religion  at  that  period,  IV. 
303.  Their  dwellings,  IV. 
303.  Then-  virtues,  IV.  304. 
Lofty  courtesy  of  their  chiefs, 
IV.  308.  Value  of  their  facul- 
ties if  developed  by  civilisa- 
tion ,  IV.  305.  Contempt  of 
theliOwlanders  for  them,  IV. 
307.  The  poem  "How  the 
first Hielandman  was  made," 
IV.  307.  note.  Their  com- 
plete subjugation  in  1745, 
IV.  308.  Hatred  of  the  popu- 
lace of  London  for  the  very 
sight  of  the  tartan,  IV.  308. 
Strange  reflux  of  feeling  in 
England  in  favour  of  the 
Highlanders,  IV.  308.  Ap- 
plause given  to  Celtic  man- 
ners, customs,  and  literature, 
IV.  309.  Peculiar  nature  of 
Jacobitism  in  the  Highlands, 
IV.311.  Tyranny  of  clan  over 



clan,  IV.  313.  Jealousy  of 
the  ascendem  V  of  the  Camp- 
bells, IV.  313."  The  battle  of 
Inverlochy,  IV.  315.  The 
Marquess  of  Argylo,  IV.  315. 
Execution  of  hia  son  Earl 
Archibald,  IV.  316.  His 
grandson,  IV.  316.  The 
Stewarts  and  Macnaghtens, 
IV.  316.  Alarm  of  the  chief- 
tains at  the  restoration  of 
the  power  of  Argyle,  IV.31ti. 
et  seq.  The  Macleans,  the 
Camerons,  and  Lochiel,  IV. 
317.  Insurrection  of  the 
clans  hostile  to  the  Camp- 
bells, IV.  328.  The  gathering 
at  Lochabep,  IV.  3:i8.  Mili- 
tary character  of  the  High- 
landers, V.  1.  et  seq.  Want 
of  harmony  amongst  the 
clans  when  under  one  com- 
mand, V.  3,  4.  Quarrels 
amongst  them,  V.  6.  Their 
conduct  at  the  battle  of  Kil- 
liecrankie,  V.  27.  Ketire  to 
the  Castle  of  Blair,  V.  32. 
Arrival  of  reinforcements  at 
the  camp  at  Blair,  V.  35. 
General  Cannon's  difBcul- 
ties,  V.  86.  1'heir  attack  on 
the  Cameronian  regiment  at 
Dunkeld  repulsed,  V.  41. 
Dissolution  of  the  Highland 
army,  V.  43. 

Iliijhwaymen ,  in  the  time  of 
William  III.,  IV.  58. 

Hodges,  Colonel  Robert;  his 
gallantry  at  the  skirmish  of 
Walcourt,  V.  103. 

Holidays  of  the  Church,  an- 
Hataulay,  History.  F. 

cient;  held  in  disgust  by  rigid 
Covenanters,  IV.  248. 

Holland;  rejoicings  in,  on  the 
accession  of  WiUiam  III., 
IV.  2.  Expenses  of  her  ex- 
pedition under  AVilliam  HI. 
repaid  to  her,  IV.  37.  War 
declared  against  her  by 
France,  IV.  38.  The  English 
contingent,  under  the  Count 
Schomberg,  IV.  38.  Natural 
resentment  of,  at  the  con- 
duct of  Torrington  towards 
the  Dutch  fleet  at  Beachy 
Head,  V.  278.  A  special  am- 
bassador sent  to  assuage  her 
anger,  V.  278. 

Holland  House;  the  temporary 
residence  of  William  and 
Mary,  IV.  58. 

Holt,  Sir  John;  appointed 
Chief  Justice  of  the  King's 
Bench,  IV.  23.  His  opinion 
respecting  the  revenue  of 
James  H.,  IV.  34. 

HoljTOod  Palace,  IV.  310. 

Hondekoeter,  the  painter,  IV. 

Hopkins,  Ezekiel,  Bishop  of 
LondondeiTy,  IV.  144, 
Preaches  the  doctrine  of  non- 
resistance,  IV.  144.  With- 
draws from  the  city,  IV.  194. 

House  of  Commons;  the  Con- 
vention turned  into  a  Parlia- 
ment, IV.  27.  The  Conven- 
tion of  1660  compared  with 
that  of  1 6S9,  IV.  20.  Discus- 
sion on  the  bill  declaring  the 
Convention  a  Parliament, 
IV.  29.  Passes  the  bill,  IV. 
31.  The  Oath  of  Allegiance, 



IV.  31,  82.  Power  of  the 
House  over  the  supplies,  IV. 
35.  Discussion  respecting 
hearth  money,  IV.  36.  Passes 
a  grant  for  repaying  the 
United  Provinces  the  ex- 
penses of  William's  expedi- 
tion, IV.  37.  Alarm  respect- 
ing the  defection  of  the  Scot- 
tish regiments  at  Ipswich, 
rV.  39.  Passes  the  first  Mu- 
tiny Bill,  IV.  45.  Suspends 
the  Habeas  Corpus  Act,  IV. 
48.  Views  of  the  House  re- 
specting the  Sacramental 
Test,  IV.  109.  Leave  given 
to  bring  in  a  bill  for  repeal- 
ing the  Coi-poration  Act,  IV. 
109.  The  debate  adjourned 
and  never  revived,  IV.  110. 
Carries  a  clause  in  the  bill 
for  settling  the  oaths  of 
fealty  compelling  the  clergy 
to  take  the  oaths,  IV.  114. 
Passes  the  bill  for  settling 
the  Coronation  Oath,  IV. 
115.  Its  address  to  the  King 
on  the  barbarities  committed 
by  Lewis  of  France  in  the 
Palatinate,  IV.  127.  Invec- 
tives applied  to  him,  IV.  127. 
Its  munificent  relief  afforded 
to  the  Protestant  fugitives 
fi:omIreland,IV.223.  Brings 
in  a  bill  for  reversing  the 
sentence  on  Gates,  V.  55. 
Conference  with  the  Lords, 

V.  56.  The  bill  dropped,  V. 
59.  Remonstrance  sent  to 
the  Lords  on  their  un- 
courteous  behaviour  to  the 
Commons,  V.  59.    The  Bill 

of  Rights  passe(J,  V.  59.  Re- 
jection of  an  amendment  of 
the  Lords,  V.  61.  Disputes 
respecting  the  Bill  of  In- 
demnity, V.  62.  The  bill  al- 
lowed to  drop,  V.  64.  Reso- 
lution of  the  House  that  a 
pardon  cannot  be  allowed  to 
bar  a  parliamentary  impeach- 
ment, V.  73.  Its  grant  to 
Schomberg,  V.  79.  Its  votes 
of  supply  for  carrying  on  the 
war  in  Ireland  and  against 
France,  V.  162.  Inquiry  into 
naval  abuses,  V.  165.  Vio- 
lence of  the  Whigs,  V.  174. 
Impeachments,  V.  175.  The 
Corporation  Bill  brought  in, 
V.181.  Greatmuster  of  both 
parties  for  discussing  the 
bill,  V.  186.  Tumultuous 
debate,  V.  186.  The  two  ob- 
noxious clauses  lost,  V.  187. 
The  Indemnity  Bill  brought 
forward  again,  V.  187.  Ihe 
rise  and  progress  of  parlia- 
mentary corruption  in  Eng- 
land, V.  206.  Settlement  of 
the  revenue,  V.  221.  Bill  for 
declaring  all  the  acts  of  the 
late  Parliament  to  be  valid, 
V.  232.  The  Abjuration  Bill, 
V.234.  An  Act  of  Grace  read 
and  passed,  V.  240  —  243. 
The  Parliament  prorogued, 
V.  243. 
House  of  Lords;  visited  by 
William  III.,  IV.  29.  Wil- 
liam's assent  to  the  bill  de- 
claring the  Convention  aPar- 
liament,  IV.  31.  The  Oath 
of  Allegiance,    IV.  31,  32. 



Discussion  respectinghearth 
money,  iV.  3G.  Passes  the 
first  Mulinv  Bill,  IV.  4G. 
Suspends  the  Habeas  Cor- 
pus Act,  IV.  48.  The  valuable, 
but  neglected,  Archives  of 
the  House,  IV.  90.  note.  Bill 
for  settling  the  Oaths  of  Al- 
legiance and  Supremacy,  IV. 
100.  Rejection  of  a  motion 
for  the  abolition  of  the  Sa- 
cramental Test,  IV.  110.  De- 
bate on  the  Coniprehension 
Bill,  IV.  110.  Discussions 
and  conferences  on  the  bill 
for  settling  the  oaths  of 
fealty,  IV.  114.  Passes  the 
bill  for  settling  the  Corona- 
tion Oath,  IV.  1 1 7.  The  com- 
mittee appointed  to  inquire 
into  the  circumstances  at- 
tending the  death  of  Essex, 
V.45.  Keverses  the  sentence 
on  the  Earl  of  Devonshire, 
V.  50.  Sentence  of  Titus 
Oates  brought  before  it  by 
writ  of  error,  V.  51.  Com- 
mits Oates  to  the  ^larshal- 
sea  for  breach  of  privilege, 
V.  52,  Takes  the  opinion  of 
the  Judges  on  Oates's  case, 
V.53.  Refuses  to  reverse  his 
sentence,  V.  54.  A  bill 
brought  into  the  Commons 
annulling  the  sentence,  V. 
55.  Embarrassment  of  the 
House,  V.  56.  Conference 
with  the  Commons,  V.  56. 
The  bill  dropped,  V.  59.  The 
Bill  of  Rights  passed  by  the 
Commons,  V.  59.  The  Lords' 
amendment,  V.  60.    Retire- 

ment of  Halifax,  V.lGl.  The 
House  appoints  a  Committee 
of  Murder,  V.  177.  Bill  intro- 
duced declaring  all  the  acts 
of  the  late  Parliament  to  be 
valid,  V.  232.  A  second  Ab- 
juration Bill  introduced  into 
the  House  of  Lords,V.23.S.  An 
Act  of  Grace  read  and  pass- 
ed, V.  240— 243.  The  Par- 
liament prorogued,   V.  243. 

Howard,  Sir  Robert;  his  noble 
birth,  V.  54.  His  bad  poetrj', 
V.  55.  Calls  the  attention  of 
the  House  of  Commons  to 
the  unjust  decision  of  the 
Lords  respecting  the  sen- 
tence on  Oates,  V".  55.  His 
motion  on  the  Corporation 
Bill,  V.  182.  His  clause  lost 
on  the  debate,  V.  187, 

Howe,  John,  or  "Jack  Howe;" 
appointed  Vice  Chamberlain 
to  the  Queen,  IV.  25.  His 
singular  character,  IV.  25. 
Proposes  to  send  the  Dutch 
soldiers  to  suppress  the  re- 
volt of  the  Scotch  regiments 
at  Ipswich,  IV.  40.  "His  ad- 
vocacy of  strong  measures 
for  Ireland,  IV.  224.  His 
intemperate  motion  in  the 
House,  V.  71.  His  attack  on 
Caei-marthen,  V.  72.  ^Vnd  on 
Halifax,  V.  73. 

Huguenots  in  exile  inHolIand; 
their  joy  on  the  accession  of 
"VVaiiam'  and  Mar)-,  IV.  3. 
Regiments  of,  raised  in  Eng- 
land to  accompany  Schora- 
berg  to  Ireland,  V.  77.  Their 
conspij-acy  at  Dundalk,  V.92. 




Hume,  Sir  Patrick ;  his  charac- 
ter after  his  return  from 
exile,  IV.  296.  He  joins  the 
"Club"  in  Edinburgh,  IV. 

Hyde,  Lady  Henrietta;  her  at- 
tendance at  the  coronation 
of  William  and  Mary,  IV. 
118.  Man-ied  to  the  Earl  of 
Dalkeith,  IV.  118.  note.  ' 

Impeachment,  parliamentary; 
resolution  of  the  House  of 
Commons  that  a  pardon  can- 
not be  pleaded  in  bar  of  im- 
peachment, V.  73. 

Indemnity,  Bill  of;  disputes  in 
ParUament  about,  V.  62. 
Suffered  to  drop,  V.  64.  De- 
bates on  the,  renewed,  V.  187. 
The  mock  Bill  of  Indemnity 
for  Kins  James,  V.  187.  Dif- 
ference between  an  Act  of  In- 
demnity and  an  Act  of  Grace, 
V.  240. 

Independents;  lar^e  numbers 
of,  at  the  period  of  the  Re- 
volution, IV.  96.  Their  views 
respecting  the  sovereignty 
of  every  congregation  of  be- 
lievers, IV.  96. 

Indulgence,  Declaration  of,  IV. 
10.  Gratitude  of  the  Dis- 
senters for  the,  IV.  72. 

Innocent  XI.;  his  death,  V.  105. 
His  strange  fate,  V.  105. 
Effect  of  his  death,  V.  105. 

Inverary  Castle,  IV.  316.  319. 
V.  18. 

Inverlochy,  battle  of,  IV.  315. 

Inverness;  founded  by  Saxons, 
IV.    321.      Insolence    with 

which  the  burghers  were 
treated  by  the  Macdonalds, 
IV.  322.  The  town  threatened 
by  Macdonald  of  Keppoch, 
IV.  323.  Settlement  of  the 
dispute,  IV.  326. 

Invernessshire ;  possessions  of 
the  Macdonalds  in  the,  IV. 

lona,  island  of,  IV.  321. 

Ipswich;  revolt  of  the  Scottish 
regiments  at,  IV.  38. 

Ireland;  state  of,  at  the  time 
of  the  Revolution,  IV.  129. 
The  civil  power  in  the  hands 
of  the  Roman  Catholics,  IV. 
129.  LordDeputyTyrconnel, 
IV.  129.  The  Courts  of  Jus- 
tice, IV.  129—131.  The 
Municipal   institutions,   IV. 

131.  Boroughs,  IV.  131. 
Aldermen  and  sheriffs,  IV. 

132.  The  military  power  in 
the  hands  of  the  Papists,  IV. 
132, 133.  Mutual  enmity  be- 
tween the  Englishry  and 
Irishry,  IV.  133.  Panic 
among   the  Englishry,  IV. 

134.  Emigration  from  Ire- 
land to  England,  IV.  134. 
An  illustration  of  the  general 
state   of  the  kingdom,  IV. 

135.  Infested  with  wolves  at 
the  time  of  the  Revolution, 
IV.  136.  Musterings  of  the 
Englishry,  IV.  139.  Con- 
duct of  the  Enniskilleners, 
IV.  140.  Alarm  of  the  people 
of  Londonderry,  IV.  143. 
Effect  of  the  ncAvs  of  the  Re- 
volution in,  IV.  145.  Mount- 
joy  sent  to  pacify  the  Pro- 

THE  I'uL'Jl-m  MUli  firiU  VOI.UJJliS. 


testanis  of  Ulster,  IV.  145. 
William  III.  opens  a  nejjo- 
tiation  with  Tyrconnel,  IV. 
148.  Tyrcounel  determines 
to  raise  the  Irish,  IV.  151. 
Sends  secret  instructions  to 
offer  Ireland  to  the  King  of 
France,  IV.  152.  Arming  of 
the  whole  kingdom,  IV.  153. 
Habits  of  the  Irish  peasant, 
IV.  154.  Exhortations  of  the 
priests  to  their  flocks  to  pre- 
pare for  battle  with  the 
Saxon,  IV.  154.  The  Irish 
army,  IV.  155.  General  arm- 
ing, IV.  155.  The  country 
overrun  with  banditti,lV.155. 
Barbarity  and  filthiness  of 
the  Kapparees,  IV.  158. 
Landing  of  James  at  Kin- 
sale,  IV.  169.  His  entry 
into  Dublin,  IV.  173.  The 
two  factions  at  the  Castle, 
IV.  179 — 183.  James'sjour- 
ney  to  Ulster,  IV.  183.  The 
country  impoverished,  IV. 
183.,  184.  LondondeiT)' be- 
sieged, IV.  196.  et  seq.  Cha- 
racter of  the  Irish  gentleman 
of  the  period  of  the  Kevolu- 
tion,  IV.  204.  A  Parliament 
convened  by  James  in  Dub- 
lin, IV.  204.  Acts  passed  for 
the  confiscation  of  the  pro- 
perty of  the  Protestants,  IV. 
207.  Excuses  for  the  bigot 
legislators,  IV.  208.  Distrust 
of  the  Irish  for  James,  IV. 
212.  Issue  of  base  money, 
IV.  213.  Cruel  persecution 
of  the  Protestants  in  Ireland, 
IV.  119.,  220.    Their  escape 

to  England,  IV.  223.  .Vlarm 
in  Dublin  at  the  news  from 
Londonderry,  IV.  228.  The 
siege  ofLoudonderry  raised, 

IV.  237.  The.  battle  of  New- 
ton Butler,  IV.  241—243. 
Preparations  for  a  campaign 
in  Ireland,  V.  83.  Landing 
of   Schomberg    in    Ireland, 

V.  80.,  86.  Stale  of  the  coun- 
try, V.  82.  Causes  of  the  de- 
feats and  disgraces  of  the 
Irish  troops,  V.  83.  Schorn- 
berg's  operations,  V.  87.  In- 
quiry of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons into  the  conduct  of  the 
war  in  Ireland,  V.  166.  King 
William  determines  to  go 
himself  to  Leland,  V.  195. 
Preparations  in  Englauel  for 
the  first  war,  V.  244.  The 
administration  of  James  at 
Dubhn,  V.  245.  Condition 
of  the  country  according  to 
Lauzun,  V.  249. 

Irish  Night,  the,  V.  64. 
Islav,    the     abode    of   Celtic 

royalty,  IV.  321. 
Isles,  Lordship  of  the;  claimed 

by  the  Macdonalds,  IV.  321. 

Jacobites;  their  stniggles 
against  the  bill  for  declaring 
the  Convention  a  Parlia- 
ment, IV.  30.,  31.  Their  agi- 
tation on  the  passing  of  the 
bill,  IV.  32.  ITieir  spirit 
broken  by  the  defection  of 
Sej-mour,  IV.  33.  Many  of 
them  arrested  and  confined, 
IV.  47.  Siispension  of  the 
Habeas  Corpus  Act,  IV.  47. 



Strong  feeling  against  the 
Jacobite  priests  in  the  House 
of  Commons,  IV.  114.  Jaco- 
bite Lords  at  the  coronation 
of  William  and  Mary,  IV. 
118.  Their  scurrility  and  sar- 
casm on  the  coronation  of 
William  and  Mary,  IV.  119. 
Extract  from  one  of  their 
lanipoons,  IV.  120.  note. 
Ditierence  between  English 
and  Irish  Jacobitism,  IV. 
176.  Jacobite  pamphlets  in 
favour ofJames,  IV.  222.  The 
Jacobites  of  the  Scottish 
Convention,  IV.  271.  Their 
determination  to  oppose  the 
Estates  by  force,  IV.  279. 
Their  designs  frustrated,  IV. 
280.  Arrival  ofthe  Duke  of 
Queensbei-ry  in  Edinburgh, 
IV.  282.  They  request  the 
Duke  of  Gordon  to  fire  on 
Edinburgh,  IV.  281.  His  re- 
fusal, IV.  282.  Their  spirit 
quelled,  IV.  282.  Peculiar 
nature  of  Jacobitism  in  the 
Highlands,  IV.  311.  Their 
disgust  at  the  contents  of 
the  letters  from  James  to 
Dundee  and  Balcarras,  TV. 
325.  The  Duke  of  Gordon 
sun-enders  the  Castle  of 
Edinburgh  to  William's 
troops,  V.  13.  Jacobite  im- 
putations on  Marlborough, 
V.104.  Thenonjurors,V.I10. 
Accessions  to  the  strength 
ofthe  Jacobite  party,  V.  218. 
Their  hopes  from  William's 
journey  into  Ireland,  V.220. 
Their  plans,  V.  250.    Their 

cause  betrayed  by  Fuller, 
V.254.  Their  dismay,  V.25G. 
Their  anxiety  at  the  trial  of 
Crone,  V.  260.  Clarendon, 
another  noted  member  of 
their  party,  arrested  and 
lodged  in  the  Tower,  V.  270. 
Threatened  invasion  of  the 
French,  V.  274.  Dangers  of 
the  Jacobites ,  V.  277. 

James  I.;  gives  the  site  of 
Derry  to  the  Corporation  of 
London,  IV.  141.  His  trea- 
tise on  the  Pope  as  An- 
tichrist, V.  164.  note. 

James  H.;  reactionary  feeling 
in  his  favour,  IV.  7.  This 
feeling  extuaguished  by  him- 
self, IV.  10.  Discussion  re- 
specting his  revenue  while 
on  the  throne,  IV.  33. 
Amount  of  his  revenue,  IV. 
34.  His  civility  to  those  who 
did  not  cross  him,  IV.  50. 
Maladministration  during 
his  reign,  TV.  61.  His  cor- 
rection of  some  of  the  gross 
abuses  of  the  navy,  IV.  61. 
His  pusillanimity  and  de- 
pendence on  France.  IV.  62. 
Tenderness  with  which  he 
was  regarded  during  his 
exile  by  the  High  Church 
party,  IV.  71.  His  piteous 
appeals  to  Vienna  and  Ma- 
drid, IV.  126.  Places  the 
civil  and  military  power  in 
the  hands  of  the  Papists 
in  Ireland,  IV.  129- -133. 
Mountjoy  and  Rice  sent  from 
Tyrconnel  to  him,  IV.  152, 
Causes  Mountjoy  to  be  sent 



totheBastile,  IV.  163.  He 
determines  lo  go  to  Ireland, 
IV.  1G3.  Assistance  afforded 
to  him  by  Lewis,  IV.  1G.5. 
Comforts  prepared  for  him 
on  the  voyage,  IV.  166. 
PaV3  his  farewell  visit  to 
Versailles,  IV.  166.  Sets  out 
for  Brest,  IV.  16(1.  His  re- 
tinue, IV.  166.  The  Count 
of  Avaux  chosen  as  ambas- 
sador to  accompany  James 
to  Ireland,  IV.  166.  Lands 
atKinsale,  IV.  169.  Learns 
that  his  cause  is  prospering, 
IV.  170.  Proceeds  to  Cork, 
IV.  170.  TjTconnel  arrives 
there,  IV.  171.  Leaves  Cork 
for   Dublin,    IV.  172.     His 

Erogress,  IV.  172.  Reaches 
►ublin,  IV.  173.  His  entry 
into  the  city,  IV.  173.  Holds 
a  Privy  Council,  IV.  174. 
Issues  a  proclamation  con- 
voking a  Parliament  in 
Dublin,  IV.  174.  Factions  at 
Dublin  Castle,  IV.  176.  He 
determines  to  go  to  Ulster, 
IV.  182.HisiourneytoUlster, 
rV.  183.  Reaches  Charle- 
mont,  IV.  183.  Arrives  at 
Omagh,  IV.  184.  Alarming 
information  reaches  him, 
IV.  185.  He  determines  to 
proceed  to  Londonderry,  IV. 
186.  Approaches  the  walls 
of  Londonden-y,  and  his 
staff  fired  on,  IV.  190.  Sum- 
mons the  inhabitants  to  sur- 
render, IV.  195.  Their  re- 
fusal, IV.  195.  Returns  to 
Dublin    and    entrusts   the 

siege  to  his  officers,  IV.  196. 
Orders  a  Te  Deum  for  the 
naval  skirmish  in  Banti7 
Bay,  IV.  201.  Meeting  of 
the  Parliament  of  James  in 
Dublin,  IV.  201.  His  speech 
from  the  throne,  IV.  205. 
Little  in  common  between 
him  and  his  Parliament,  IV. 
209.  Permits  the  repeal  of 
the  Act  of  Settlement,  IV. 
212.  Gives  his  reluctant  con- 
sent to  the  great  Act  of  At- 
tainder, IV.  218.  Prorogues 
theParliament,  IV.  219.  Ef- 
fect produced  in  England  by 
the  news  from  Ireland,  iV. 
222.,  223.  James's  alarm  at 
the  news  from  Londonderr}-, 
IV.  228.  His  indignation  at 
the  cruelty  of  Count  Rosen, 
IV.  230.  Siege  of  London- 
derry raised,  fv.  236.  Battle 
of  Newton  Butler,  IV.  241— 

243.  His  consternation,  IV. 

244.  The  Castle  of  Edin- 
burgh held  for  him  by  the 
Duke  of  Gordon,  PV.  251. 
His  agents  in  Scotland,  Dun- 
dee and  Balcarras,  IV.  266. 
Sends  a  letter  to  the  Estates 
of  Scotland,  IV.  275.  His 
letter  read,  IV,  276.  Their 
resolutions  that  he  had 
forfeited  his  crown,  IV. 
284.  His  letters  to  Dundee 
and  Balcarras  intercepted, 
IV.  325.  Application  from 
Dundee  for  assistance  in  the 
Highlands,  V.  8.  James  sunk 
in  despondency  at  the  news 
from  tne   north  of  Ireland, 


IXDEX  10 

V.  80.  Atrocious  advice  of 
Avaux,  V.  81.  Avaux's  ad- 
vice rejected,  V.  82.  James's 
prospects  begin  to  brighten, 
V.  88.  Dismisses  Melfort, 
and  gives  the  seals  to  Sir 
E.ichardNagle,V.86.  Leaves 
Dublin  to  encounter  Schom- 
berg,  V.  86.  Collects  his 
army  at  Drogheda,  V.  88. 
Advised  by  Kosen  not  to 
venture  a  battle,  V.  89. 
Draws  up  in  order  of  battle 
before  Schomberg's  en- 
trenchments at  Dundalk, 
V.  91.  Despatches  Sarsfield 
with  a  division  to  Connaught, 
V,  95.  Goes  into  winter  quar- 
ters, V.  96.  Dealings  of  some 
of  the  Whigs  with  the  Court 
of  Saint  Germains,  V.  218. 
Shrewsbury  and  Ferguson, 
V.  218.  James's  administra- 
tion at  Dublin,  V.  245.  Scan- 
dalous inefficiency  of  his 
infantry,  V.  245.  His  fiscal 
administration,  V.  246.  Re- 
ceives succours  from  France, 
V.  247.  Plans  of  the  English 
Jacobites,  V.  250.  Letter 
fromPenn,  V.  251.  Accepts 
the  services  of  the  Earl  of 
Shrewsbury,  V.  258. 

James's  Park,  St.,  IV.  50. 

Jane,  King's  Professor  of  Di- 
vinity; one  of  the  Ecclesias- 
tical Commissioners,  V.  186. 
His  political  apostasy  and 
relapse,  V.  136.  Absents 
himself  from  the  meetings  of 
the  Commission,  V.  137. 
Elected  as  Prolocutor  of  the 

Lower  House  of  Convoca- 
tion, V.  155.  His  oration 
before  the  Upper  House. 
V.  155. 

Jefferson;  his  code',  IV.  88. 

Jeffreys,  George,  Lord;  his 
imprisonment  in  the  Tower, 
V.  64.  Sensible  of  his  peril, 
V.  C5.  Exultation  of  the 
mob  at  his  downfall,  V.  65. 
His  disease  and  despon- 
dency, V.  66.  His  drunken- 
ness, V.  66,  The  Colchester 
barrel,  V.  67.  Visited  by 
John  Tutchin,  V.  67.  And 
by  Dean  Sharj)  and  Doctor 
John  Scott,  V.  68.  His 
death,  V.  69.  Causes  of  his 
death,  V.  69.  note.  His  in- 
solence and  cruelty  on  the 
trial  of  Sir  Thomas  Arm- 
strong, V.  190. 

Jerusalem  Chamber,  the,  V. 

Jews;  proposition  of  the  House 
of  Commons  to  exact  a  hun- 
dred thousand  pounds  from 
them,  V.  162. 

Johnson,  Dr.  Samuel;  his  opi- 
nion of  the  abilities  of 
Charles  Leslie,  V.  121.  And 
of  "William  Law,  V.  121. 

Johnson,  Samuel ;  case  of,  V. 
48.  His  quaiTel  with  Bur- 
net, V.  49. 

Johnston's,  Saint;  skirmish 
between  the  Highlanders 
and  Mackay's  troops  at, 
V.  37. 

Jourdain:  Moliere's  reference 
to,  IV.  168. 

THE  voviiia  AUD  h'uriii  voLu:ui;s. 


Judges;  ajipointment  of  the, 
by  the  government  of  A\'il- 
liam  111.,  IV.  22. 

Jura,  tlie  l)aj)s  of,  IV.  321. 

Justice,  College  of,  in  Edin- 
burgh ;  the  members  disarm 
themselves      on     "\\'illiam'8 

S)roclumation  being  issued, 
v.  251. 
Juxon,  Bishop,  IV.  105. 

Ktsiting,  John,  Chief  Justice  of 
the  Irish  Common  I'leas,  IV. 
130.  His  courageous  ad- 
dress at  the  AVicklow  assizes 
on  the  lawlessness  of  the 
Mern'  Boys,  and  attempt  to 
uphold  the  law,  IV.  157. 
Dismissed  from  the  Council 
Board  by  James,  IV.  174. 

Ken;  Bishop  of  Bath  and 
Wells,  IV.  88.  Becomes  a 
nonjuror,  V.  118.  His  inde- 
cision, V.  119. 

Kenmare,  to^-n  of;  foundation 
of,  by  Sir  W.  Petty,  IV.  136. 
Its  isolation  at  thit  period, 
IV.  137.  Its  manufactures 
and  trade,  IV.  137.  Forays 
committed  by  the  Irishry, 
IV.  138.  Keprisals  of  the 
people  of  Kenmare,  IV.  139. 
They  act  as  an  independent 
commonwealtli ,  IV.  139. 
Compelled  to  capitulate  to  a 
large  force,  and  suffered  to 
embark  for  England,  IV. 

Kenmore,  Lord;  commands  a 
regiment  at  the  battle  of 
Killiecrankie,  V.  21. 

Kensington  House;  pixrchased 

and  the  gardens  planted  by 
^  ANilliam  HI.,  IV.  58. 

Kepi)och,  Colin Mucdonuld,  of. 
bee  Macdonald,  Colin. 

Kerrj';  beauties  of  the  south- 
western part  of,  IV.  135. 
lii'ttle  known  at  the  time  of 
the  Kevulution,  IV.  136.  Its 
wild  state,  IV.  136.  note. 

Kettlewell,  John,  rector  of 
Coleshill;  l)ecomes  a  non- 
juror, V.  129.  His  intimacy 
with  Lord  Ilussell,  V.  129. 

Killarney,  Lakes  of,  IV.  186. 

Killiecrankie,  glen  of;  its  pre- 
sent appearance,  V.  19.  Its 
condition  at  the  time  of  Wil- 
liam HI.,  V.  19.  Occupied 
by  the  Williamite  troops,  V. 
23.  Battle  of  Killiecrankie, 
V.  26.  27.  Effect  of  the 
battle,  V.  81.  Compared 
with  the  battle  of  Newton 
Butler,  V.  33. 

King,  Doctor  "\VilIiam,  Dean 
of  St.  Patrick's;  his  suffer- 
ings, IV.  221. 

King's  Bench,  Court  of;  its 
sentence  on  Devonshire  re- 
versed, and  declared  to  have 
violated  the  Great  Charter, 

y.  50.  ^ 

King's  Evil;  sneers  of  King 
"\\  illiam  at  the  practice  of 
touching  for,  IV.  478.  Cere- 
monies of  touching,  V.  14.'^. 
Popular  belief  in  the  effi- 
cacy of  the  King's  touch,  V. 

Kinsale;  James  lands  at,  IV. 

KintjTe.  IV.  821 


nroEX  TO 

Kirke,  ColonelPercy;  appoint- 
ed to  command  a  force  for 
the  relief  of  Londonderry, 
IV.  225.  His  character,  IV. 
22.^.  His  expedition  wind- 
bound  at  the  Isle  of  Man,  IV. 
227.  Arrives  in  Loch  Foyle, 
IV,  227.  Considers  it  not  ad- 
visable to  make  any  attempt, 
and  remains  inactive,  IV. 
227,  Peremptorily  ordered 
to  relieve  the  garrison,  IV, 
233.  Does  so,  and  the  siege 
is  raised,  IV.  233—235.  In- 
vited to  take  the  command, 
IV.  237.  His  conduct  dis- 
gusting to  the  inhabitants, 
IV.  237.  Sends  arms  to  the 
Enniskilleners,  IV.  240. 

Lake,  Bishop  of  Chichester; 
becomes  anonjui-or,  V.  118. 

Lanarkshire ;  the  Covenanters 
from ,  called  to  arras  in 
Edinburgh,  IV.  280. 

Latin;  the  bad,  of  the  Roman 
Catholic  services,  V.  141. 

Latitudinarians ;  their  objec- 
tions to  the  Easter  holidays, 
IV.  113. 

Lauzun,  Antonine,  Count  of;  a 
favourite,  with  James  II., 
IV.  164.  Hated  by  Louvois, 
IV.  164.  His  ambition,  IV. 
165.  Appointed  to  the  com- 
mand of  the  Irish  forces  in 
Ireland,  V.  248.  249.  Lands 
in  Ireland,  and  takes  up  his 
residence  in  the  castle,V.249. 

Law,  William;  Dr.  Johnson's 
opinion  of  him  as  a  reasoner, 
\.  121.  note. 

Lawers,  Ben,  V.  30. 
Laws  of  England;  the  peculiar 
vu'tues  and  vices  of  our  le- 
gislation, IV.  84.    The  prac- 
tical   element    always    pre- 
dominates over  the  specula- 
tive, IV.  85. 
Leadenhall  Market,  IV.  97. 
Leake,    Captain  John   (after- 
wards Admiral);    assists  in 
relieving  Londonderry,  IV. 
Lee,  Sir  Thomas;  his  opinion 
on  the  Coronation  Oath,  IV. 
117.  note. 
Leinster;  lawlessness  of  the 

MerryBoysof,  IV.  157. 
Leopold  I.,  Emperor  of  Aus- 
tria;   joins     the     coalition 
against  France,  IV.  122.  Ac- 
cused   by    Lewis   XIV.    of 
leaguing  with  heretics,  IV. 
125.     Extract  from  the  an- 
swer of  Leopold,    IV.  126. 
Leo  X.;  reference  to,  IV.  95. 
Leslie,   Charles;    his  abilities 
and  character,  V.  21.    Be- 
comes a  nonjuror,  V.  21. 
Leven,  David,  Earl  of;  bears  a 
letter  from  William  III.  to 
the  Scotch  Convention,  IV. 
266.  276.     Calls  the  people 
of  Edinburgh  to  arms,  IV. 
280.     Commands  the  King's 
Own    Borderers    at   Killie- 
crankie,  V.  21.  27.     His  gal- 
lantry, V.  30. 
Lewis  XIV.,  King  of  France; 
great  coalition  against  him, 
IV.  122.     His  devastation  of 
the  Palatinate,  IV.  122—124. 



His  marriage  with  Frances 
de  Maintenon,  IV.  124, 125, 
Spares  Treves  at  her  en- 
treaty, IV.  12-1,  125.  His 
accusations  against  the  Em- 

Seror  of  Austria  and  the 
[ing  of  Spain ,  IV.  125. 
Leagues  himself  with  the 
buUun  of  Turkey,  IV.  126. 
War  declared  against  him 
by  the  coalition,  IV.  127, 
12b.  His  unwillingness  to 
assist  James  II.  with  an 
army,  IV.  163,  1G4.  His  sen- 
timents respecting  James's 
character,  IV.  164.  Fur- 
nishes James  with  assis- 
tance, IV.  165.  His  fare- 
well visit  to  James  at  St. 
Germains,  IV.  166.  His  joy 
at  the  death  of  Innocent  XI., 
V.  105.  Sends  an  ambassa- 
dor of  high  rank  to  Home, 
V.  105.  Failure  of  his 
schemes  there,  V.  106.  Sends 
an  old  piece  of  brass  ord- 
nance to  Dublin  to  be  coined 
into  crowns  and  shillings,  V. 
247.  Forwards  an  auxiliary 
force  from  France  to  Ire- 
land, V.  247.  His  error  in 
the  choice  of  a  general,  V. 

Lewis  of  Baden ,  Prince ;  his 
victories  over  the  Turks  be- 
yond the  Danube,  V.  102. 

Lieutenantcy,  Commissions  of; 
changes  eft'ectedin,  V.  215. 
Debates  in  the  House  of 
Commons  on  the  changes  in, 
V. 232. 

Lisburn;  migration  of  the 
people  of,  to  Antrim,  IV.  163. 

Lisle,  Alice;  her  attainder  re- 
versed, V.  48.  Assassina- 
tion of  her  husband,  V.  171. 

Lisle,  John  (liusband  of  Alice 
Lisle);  his  refuge  near  the 
Lake  of  Geneva,  V.  171.  As- 
sassinated, V. 171. 

Liturgy;  proposal  by  the  Com- 
prehension Bill  for  an  Ec- 
clesiastical Commission  to 
revise  the  Liturgy  and  Ca- 
nons, IV.  110.  Discussion 
in  the  House  of  Lords  re- 
specting, IV.  110.  111.  The 
English  Liturgy  compared 
with  the  Latin,  V.  141.  Al- 
tered by  the  Ecclesiastical 
Commissioners,  V.  142. 

Lloyd,  Bishop  of  St.  Asaph; 
cames  the  paten  at  the  coro- 
nation of  William  and  Mary, 
IV.  118. 

Lloyd,  Bishop  of  Norwich;  de- 
clares himself  a  nonjuror,  V. 

Lobb,  Stephen;  his  zeal  in  the 
persecution  of  the  seven 
bishops,  IV.  71. 

Lochaber;  gathering  of  the 
clans  at,  IV.  328. 

Lochiel.  See  Cameron,  Sir 

Lochbuy;  the  Macleans  of,  IV. 

Locke,  John;  dedicates  the 
Essay  on  the  Human  Under^ 
standing  to  the  Earl  of  Pem- 
broke, V.  214. 

Lockhart,  Lord  President; 
murder  of,  IV.  288. 



Lockhart,  Sir  William;  ap- 
pointed Solicitor  General  of 
Scotland,  IV.  294. 

Long,  Thomas ;  his  Vox  Cleri, 
V.  159.  note. 

Londeriad,  the,  IV.  17G.  note. 

London;  its  loyalty  to  William 
and  Mary,  IV.  1.  Proclama- 
tion of  the  new  Ki;'g  and 
Queen  in,  IV.  1.  Its  filth  at 
the  time  of  William  III., 
IV.  56.  Highwaymen  and 
scourers  in  the  outskirts  of, 

IV.  58.  The  site  of  Derry 
given  by  James  I.  to  the  Cor- 
poration of,  IV.  141.  Sorrow 
and  alarm  of  the  Londoners 
at  the  news  of  the  landing 
of  James  II.  in  Ireland,  IV. 
174.  Hatred  of  the  Lon- 
doners for  the  Highlanders 
in  1740,  IV.  308.  News  of 
the  successes  of  the  Protes- 
tants in  the  north  of  Ireland, 

V.  76.  Reception  given  by 
the  London  companies  to 
the  Reverend  George  Walk- 
er, V.  163.  Excitement  in, 
on  the  dissolution  of  Parlia- 
ment and  general  election, 
V.  200.  The  citizens  return 
four  Tories  for  the  City, 
V.  201.  Agitated  state  of  the 
City,  V.  216.  Proclamation 
of  a  general  fast  in,  V.  217. 
Alarm  at  the  news  of  the 
battle  of  Beachy  Head,  V. 
273.  Joyful  news  from  Ire- 
land, V. 279. 

London    Gazette;    its    lying 

statements,  V.  96.  note. 
Londonderry;  one  of  the  prin- 

cipal strongholds  of  the 
Englishry  at  the  time  of  the 
Revolution,  IV.  139.  De- 
struction of  the  ancient  city 
of  Derry,  IV.  141.  The  site 
and  six  thousand  acres  in 
the  neighbourhood  given  by 
James  I.  to  the  Corporation 
of  London,  IV.  141.  Foun- 
dation of  the  new  city  of 
Londonderry,  IV.  142.  The 
cathedral,  IV.  142.  The  bi- 
shop's palace,  IV.  142.  The 
new  houses,  IV.  142.  The 
city  walls,  IV.  142.  The  in- 
habitants all  Protestants  ef 
Anglo-Saxon  blood,  IV.  142. 
Besieged  in  1641,  IV.  143. 
Its  prosperity,  IV.  143.  Alarm 
of  the  inhabitants ,  IV.  143. 
Arrival  of  the  Earl  of  Antrim 
to  occupy  the  city,  IV.  144. 
Doctrine  of  nonresistance 
preached  by  the  bishop,  IV- 
144.  Low  character  of  the 
Mayor  and  Corporation,  IV.- 

144.  The  thirteen  Scottish 
apprentices,  IV.  144.  The 
city  gates  closed  against 
the  Kmg's  troops,  IV.  144. 
James  Morison,  IV.  145. 
Retreat  of  the  troops,  IV. 

145.  A  small  gai-rison  of 
Mountjoy's  regiment  left  in 
the  city,  under  Robert  Lun- 
dy,  IV.  147.  Lundy  gives 
in  his  adhesion  to  the  govern- 
ment of  William  and  Mary, 
IV.  161.  Confirmed  by  them 
in  his  office  of  governor,  IV. 
162.  All  the  Protestants  of 
the   neighbourhood    crowd 



iiitothetown,  IV.  1G3.  The 
fall  of  the  city  expected,  IV, 
187.  Lundy  considers  re- 
sistance hopeless,  IV.  188. 
Arrival  of  succours  from 
En},'laud,IV.  188.  Treachery 
of  Lundy,  IV.  189.  The  ci- 
tizens resolve  to  defend 
themselves,  IV.  189.  Their 
disgust  at  the  conduct  of  the 
governor,  IV.  189.  A  tumul- 
tuous council  of  the  inhabi- 
tants called,  IV.  190.  The 
people  called  to  arms,  IV. 
190.  Major  Henry  Baker, 
Captain  Adam  Miuray,  and 
the  Keverend  George  "Walk- 
er, IV.  190.  Character  of 
the  Protestants  of  London- 
derry, IV.  191.  Two  gover- 
nors elected,  and  the  people 
divided  into  regiments,  IV. 
194.  Frequent  preaching 
and  praying,  IV.  194.  Re- 
markable aspects  of  the  ca- 
thedral, IV.  195.  Summons 
from  James  to  surrender, 
IV.  195.  Refusal  to  do  so, 
IV.  195.  Commencement  of 
the  siege,  IV.  196.  The  as- 
sault at  Windmill  Hill,  IV. 
198.  The  siege  turned  into 
a  blockade,IV.  199.  A  boom 
placed  across  the  stream, 
IV.  199.  Interest  excited  in 
England  in  the  siege,  IV.  224. 
Distress  of  the  inhabitants, 
IV.  226.  Hunger  and  pesti- 
lence, IV.  227.  Cruelty  of 
Count  Rosen,  IV.  228.  Rosen 
recalled  by  King  .Limes,  IV. 
231.  Attempt  at  negotiation, 

IV.  231.  Extreme  famine  in 
the  city,  IV.  231.  Malker 
unjustly  suspected  of  con- 
cealing food,  IV.  232.  "The 
fat    man   in   Londonderry," 

IV.  233.  Kirke  ordered  to 
relieve  the  garrison,  IV.  233. 
Attack  on  the  boom,lV.234. 
The  boom  gives  way,  IV.  235. 
The  garrison  relieved,    IV. 

236.  The  siege  raised,IV.  23G. 
Loss  sustained  by  the  be- 
siegers and  besieged, IV.236, 

237.  Kirke  invited  to  take 
the  command,  IV.  237.  Large 
quantities  of  provisions  land- 
ed from  the  lleet,  IV.  237. 
Letter  from  "William  III., 
acknowledging  his  grateful 
thanks  to  tne  defenders,  IV. 

238.  I'ride  of  the  inhabi- 
tants in  their  city  as  a  trophy 
of  the  t)ravery  of  their  fore- 
fathers, IV.  238,  239.  Ten 
thousand  poimds  granted  by 
the  Commons  to  the  widows 
and  orphans  of  the  defen- 
ders of  Londonderry,  V.  170. 

Loo,  the  palace  of,  IV.  55,  50. 
Lords,  bee  of  Lords. 
Lords  of  the  Articles  of  the 

Scotch  Parliaments,  IV.  281. 
Lorn;  ravaged  by  the  men  of 

Athol,  V.  IS. 
Lorraine,   Charles,  Duke  of; 

drives  the  French  out  of  the 

Palatinate,  and  takes Mentz, 

V.  102. 
Lothians,  the,  IV.  255. 
Louvois,  chief  military  adviser 

ofLewisXIV.,IV.  123.  His 
character,  IV.  123.    His  dia- 



bolical  plan  of  devastating 
the  Palatinate,  IV.  123.  Re- 
garded by  Madame  de  Main- 
tenon  as  her  enemy,  IV.  125. 
Advises  his  master  not  to  as- 
sist James  II.  with  troops, 
IV.  164.  His  hatred  of  Lau- 
zun,  IV.  164.  His  views  re- 
specting Ireland,  IV.  181. 

Lovelace,  John,  Lord,  IV.  5. 

Lowlanders ;  their  contempt 
for  Highlanders,  IV.  307. 

Lowlands  of  Scotland;  their 
state,  after  the  defeat  of  the 
Highlanders  at  Dunkeld, 

Low  Church  party;  the,  of  the 
reign  of  William  III.,  IV.  69. 
Origin  of  the    appellation, 

IV.  69.  Their  views  respect- 
ing James  II.  and  Wil- 
liam III.,  IV.  72.  Desire  of 
Low  Churchmen  to  preseiTe 
Episcopacy  in  Scotland,  IV. 
257.  Their  minority  in  the 
Lower  House  of  Convoca- 
tion, V. 157. 

Lowther,  Sir  John;  appointed 
to  a  Commissioneiship  of 
the  Admiralty,  IV.  20,  De- 
puted to  can-y  the  thanks  of 
the  Tories  to  King  William, 

V.  198.  Appointed  First 
Lord  of  the  Treasury,  V.  204. 
His  abilities  and  influence, 
V.  204.  His  connection  with 
Caermarthen,  V.  205.  Not 
well  suited  for  his  post,  V. 
205.  Moves  the  grant  of  the 
excise  and  customs'  duties 
to  the  King  for  life,  V.  222. 

Ludlow,  Edmund;    his  early 

life,  V.  170.  His  vigorous  old 
age,  V.  170.  His  refuge  at 
Geneva,  V.  171.  His  arrival 
in  London  after  the  Revolu- 
tion, V.  172.  Horror  of  the 
people  at  the  regicide  ap- 
pearing amongst  them,  V. 
173.  Proclamation  issued  for 
his  apprehension,  V.  173.  His 
escape  to  Switzerland,V.  173. 
His  house  and  burialplace, 
V.  174. 
Lundy,  Lieutenant  Colonel 
Robert ;  left  by  Mountjoy  to 
garrison  Londonderry,  IV. 
147.  His  treachery,  IV.  189. 
Considers  resistance  hope- 
less, IV.  188.  Makes  his 
escape  from  the  city  by  night, 
IV.  190.  His  memory  held 
in  execration  in  the  north  of 
Ireland,  IV.  191.  Sent  to  the 
Tower,  IV.  224.  Annually 
executed   in  effigy  by   the 

feople  of  Londonderry, 
V.  239. 

Luttrell,  Colonel  Henry;  re- 
turned for  CarloAV  to  the 
Dublin  Parliament  of  James 
II.,  IV.  202. 

Luttrell,  Colonel  Simon;  re- 
turned for  Dublin  to  the 
Irish  Parliament  of  James  II., 
IV.  202.  Hispart  inthegi-eat 
Act  of  Attainder,  IV.  215, 
Allows  the  ejected  fellows 
and  scholars  of  the  Univer- 
sity of  Dublin  to  depart  in 
safety,  IV.  221. 

Luttrell,  Narcissus;  his  MS. 
Diary  in  All  Souls'  College, 
IV,  2.  note. 



Luxembur<T,  Duke  of;  defeats 
Waldeck.  at  the  battle  of 
Fleurus,  V.  274. 

Macarthy,  Lieutenant  Gene- 
ral; his  reduction  of  IJandon, 

IV.  160.  Receives  JftVnes  11. 
at  Cork,  IV.  171.  His  part 
in  the  operations  against 
the  Eniiiskilleners,  IV.  240. 
Rewarded  with  the  title  of 
Viscount  Mountcashel,  IV. 
240.     See  Mountcashel. 

Macclesfield,  Earl  of;  his  op- 

Eosition  to   the  Abjuration 
ill,  V.  239.     His  answer  i.i 
the  House  to  Marlborough, 

V.  23 D. 

Mac  Galium  More;  his  un- 
scrupulous ambition,  IV. 

Macdonald  of  Glengarry;  his 
personal  dignity,  IV.  328. 
His  position  on  the  field  of 
Killiecrankie,  V.  25. 

Macdonald,  Colin,  of  Keppoch ; 
his  lawlesspractices,IV.323. 
His  mountain  fastnesses,  IV. 
323.  Proclaimed  a  rebel  and 
attacked  by  the  King's 
troops,  whom  he  defeats, 
IV.  323.  Wastes  the  lands 
of  the  Mackintoshes,  and 
threatens  Inverness,  IV.  324. 
Appearance  of  Dundee  in 
Keppoch's  camp,  IV.  326. 
The  dispute  with  Inverness 
settled  by  Dundee's  inter- 
vention, "IV.  327.  Greets 
the  standard  of  Dundee, 
IV.  328. 

Macdonalds;  power  of  the  clan 

of  the,  IV.  313.  820.  Their 
claim  to  the  Lordship  of  the 
Isles,  IV.  321.  Their  feud 
with  the  Mackintoshes,  IV. 
321.  Their  insolence  to  the 
peojile  of  Inverness,  IV.  322. 
Their  muster  at  the  gather- 
ing of  Lochaber,  IV.  328. 
Quarrels  of  the  Macdonalds 
of  Glengarry  with  the  Ca- 
merons,  V.  6.  7.  Their  po- 
sition at  the  battle  of  Killie- 
crankie, V.  24.  Macdonald 
of  Sleat  quits  the  Highland 
camp,  V.  39. 

Macgregors;  terrible  example 
made  of  the,  IV.  316. 

Mackay,  Andrew,  a  soldier  of 
fortune,  IV.  282.  Ajipointed 
General  by  the  Scottish  Con- 
vention, iV.  282.  His  inde- 
cisive campaign  in  the  High- 
lands, IV.  3;U.  Withdraws 
from  the  hill  country,  and 
the  war  suspended,  V.  9. 
Urges  the  ministers  at  Edin- 
burgh to  give  him  the  means 
of  constructing  a  chain  of 
forts  among  the  Grampians, 
V.  9.  Hastens  to  assist  tne 
besiegers  of  Blair  Castle, 
V.  21.  Occupies  the  defile 
of  Killiecrankie,  V.  23.  De- 
feated by  the  Highlanders  at 
Killiecrankie,  V.  27.  Re- 
treats across  the  mountains, 
V.  29.  His  tiTing  situation, 
V.  29.  His  troops  refreshed 
at  AVeems  Castle,  V.  30. 
Reaches  Castle  Drummond 
and  Stirling,  V.  31.  Restores 
order  amongst  the  remains 



of  his  arniy,  V.  3G.  His  im- 
provemeiit  of  the  bayonet, 
V.  37.  Kouts  the  Kobert- 
sons  at  Saint  Johnstone's, 
V.  37.  His  advice  disre- 
garded by  the  Scotch  Mi- 
nisters, V.  38.  The  conse- 
^uences,  V.  39.  Takes  the 
lastleofBair,  V.  43. 

Mackays,  the,  IV.  327.  Join 
General  Mackay  and  the 
King's  troops,  IV.  332. 

Mackenzie,  Sir  George,  Lord 
Advocate ;  his  resignation, 
IV.  264.  His  life  threatened 
by  the  Covenanters,  IV.  275. 
Applies  to  the  House  for 
protection,  IV.  276. 

Mackenzies,  the,  IV.  327. 

Mackintoshes;  origin  of  their 
name,  IV.  321.  Their  feud 
with  the  clan  of  Macdonald, 
IV.  321.  Origin  of  the  dis- 
pute, IV.  321.  Their  friend- 
ship with  the  burghers  of 
Inverness,  IV.  323.  Their 
lands  wasted  by  Macdonald 
ofKeppoch,  IV."324.  Their 
refusal  to  join  the  banner  of 
Dundee  with  the  Mac- 
donalds,  IV.  327. 

Maclean  of  Lochbuy;  musters 
his  clan  at  the  gathering  of 
Lochaber,  IV.  329. 

Maclean,  Sir  John,  of  Duart, 
IV.  329. 

Macleans ;  their  oppressions  at 
the  hands  of  the  Campbells, 
IV.  317.  Offer  their  assist- 
ance to  James,  IV.  317.  Ga- 
thering of  the  Macleans  of 
Mull,  at  Lochaber,  IV.  329. 

Muster  of  the ,  of  Lochbuy, 
IV.  329.  Their  position  on 
the  field  of  Killiecrankie, 

Macleods,  the,  IV.  327. 

Macnaghten  of  Macnaghten; 
musters  his  clan  at  Lochaber, 
IV.  328. 

Macnaghtens;  their  alarm  at 
the  influence  and  power  of 
the  Duke  of  Argyle,  IV.  316. 

Macphersons,  the,  IV.  327. 
Their  arrival  at  the  camp  at 
lUair,  V.  35. 

Magdalene  College,  IV.  10. 

Maintenon,  Madame  de;  her 
early  life,  IV.  124.  Her  cha- 
racter, IV.  124.  Her  mar- 
riage with  Lewis  XIV.  of 
France,  IV.  124,  125.  In- 
tercedes for  the  city  of 
Treves,  IV.  124,  125.  Her 
enmity  towards  Louvois, 
IV.  125. 

Mallow;  muster  of  the  Eng- 
lishry  at,  IV.  139.  The 
Protestants  driven  out  from, 
IV.  160. 

Manheim;  destroyed  by  the 
French  under  Duras,  IV. 

Mantegna ,  Andrea ;  his 
Triumphs  at  Hampton 
Court,  IV.  57.  note. 

Marlborough,  John,  Baron 
(afterwards  Duke) ;  com- 
mands an  English  brigade 
under  Prince  Waldeck,  V. 
1 03.  Imputations  thrown  on 
him,  V.  104.  His  love  of 
lucre,  V.  104.  Opinion  of 
foreigners  of  the  relation  in 



which  he  stood  to  the  Prin- 
cess Anne,  V.  22G.  Power  of 
his  Countess  over  him,  V. 
226.  His  greed  of  gain,  V. 
226.  Boundless  influence  of 
him  and  the  Countess  over 
the  Princess  Anne,  V.  227. 
Marks  of  favour  bestowed 
on  him  by  William,  V.  230. 
Supports  the  Abj  uration  Bill, 
V.  239.  Appointed  to  the 
command  of  the  troops  in 
England  during  the  stay  of 
William  in  Ireland,  V.  262. 

Marlborough,  Sarah,  Countess 
of;  fondness  of  the  Princess 
Anne  for  her,  V.  225.  Their 
singular  relationship,  V.  225. 
Her  power  over  her  hus- 
band, V.  226.  Her  parsi- 
mony, V.  226.  Her  hatred 
of  all  related  to  the  Princess, 
V.  228.  Forms  a  Princess's 
party  in  Parliament,  V.  229. 
Shrewsbury  sent  to  wait  on 
the  Countess,  V.  230.  Scan- 
dalous reports  respecting 
him  and  the  Countess,  V.  230. 
She  obtains  a  pension  from 
the  Princess  Anne,  V.  231. 

Marshalsea  Prison,  the,  V.  52. 

Mary ,  Queen ;  proclaimed, 
IV.  1.  Her  popularity  with 
her  subjects,  IV.  52.  Her 
personal  appearance  and 
character,  I V .  52.  Her  dis- 
like of  evil  speaking,  IV.  53. 
Her  amiable  conduct,  IV.  53. 
Her  coronation.  IV.  117,118. 
Inaugurated  like  a  King, 
IV.  118.  Her  munificent  re- 
lief to  the  fugitive  Pro- 
Mncaulaij,  //tsJori;.  V. 

testants  from  Ireland,  IV, 
223.  Proclaimed  in  Edin- 
burgh, IV.  288.  Accents  the 
Crown  of  Scotland,  IV.  289. 
Not  on  good  terms  with  the 
Princess  Anne,  V.  224.  Iler 
annovance  at  the  conduct 
of  the  Princess,  V.  229.  Her 
resentment  against  Lady 
Marlborough,  V.  231.  Her 
renewal  of  terms  of  friend- 
ship with  Anne,  V.  231.  The 
Queen  appointed  to  admi- 
nister the  government  du- 
ring the  absence  of  ^^'illiam 
in  Ireland,  V.  243.  Her 
agonies  at  his  departui-e,  V. 
258.  Her  measures  for  the 
defence  of  the  country,  V. 
269.  Signs  the  warrant  for 
the  arrest  of  Clarendon  and 
other  noted  Jacobites,  V. 

Maumont;  appointed  to  the 
Lieutenant  Generalship  in 
the  French  contingent,  IV. 
165.  Entrusted  with  the  di- 
rection of  the  siege  of  Lon- 
donderry, IV.  196.  Shotdead 
at  the  head  of  his  cavalrj', 
IV.  196.  Hi.«i  sword  preserved 
in  Londondeny  as  a  trophy, 
IV.  239. 

Maynard,  Sir  John;  appointed 
Commissioner  of  the  Great 
Seal,  IV.  22.  His  statesman- 
like view  of  the  bill  for  de- 
claring the  Convention  a 
Parlianient,IV.31.  Opposes 
the  intemperate  motion  of 
Howe,  V.  71. 

Mazarin,  Cardinal,  IV.  49. 




M'Cormick,  Captain  William, 
of  Enniskillen,  IV.  141. note. 

Meath;  incursion  of  the  En- 
niskilleners  into,  IV.  225. 

Melfort,  John  Lord;  accom- 
panies James  II.  to  Ireland, 

IV.  166.0dioiisto  the  people 
of  England,  IV.  166.  A  fa- 
vourite with  James,  IV.  166. 
Disliked  by  the  Count  of 
Avaux,  IV.  181.  Advises 
King  James  to  set  out  for 
Ulster,  IV.  182.  Held  in  ab- 
horrence by  the  Scotch 
Estates,  IV.  277.  His  letters 
to  Dundee  and  Balcarras  in- 
tercepted, IV.  325.  Dis- 
missed from  office  and  sent 
to  Versailles  for  assistance 
for  James,  V.  86. 

Melloniere,  La;  appointed  to 
the  command  of  a  Huguenot 
regiment  under  Schomberg, 

V.  78. 

Melville,  George,  Lord;  his 
connections  with  the  Duke 
of  Monmouth  and  Leslie, 
IV.  265.  His  part  in  the  Rye 
House  Plot,  IV.  265.  tih 
approval  of  the  enterprise  of 
the  Prince  of  Orange,  IV. 
266.  Sent  by  William  III. 
to  Edinburgh  as  agent  to  the 
Presbyterians,  IV.  266.  His 
son,  the  Earl  of  Leven ,  IV. 
266.  Presents  himself  at  the 
Scottish  Convention ,  IV. 
270.  Appointed  to  the  Se- 
cretaryship of  Scotland,  IV. 
295.  Fixes  his  residence  at 
the  English  Court,  IV.  295. 

Mentz;  besieged  and  taken  by 

Charles  Duke  of  Lorraine, 
V. 102. 

Merry  Boys,  the,  ofLeinster, 
IV.  157.  170. 

Mildmay,  Colonel,  member  for 
Essex;  his  proposal  for  sup- 
pressing the  revolt  of  the 
soldiers  at  Ipswich,  IV.  40. 

Militia;  the,  of  England  at  the 
time  of  the  Revolution  of 
1688,  IV.  40. 

Ministers ;  the ,  of  the  Planta- 
genets,  Tudors,  and  Stuarts. 
See  Ministry. 

Ministry ;  what  is  now  called  a, 
not  known  in  England  till 
the  reign  of  William  IH., 
IV.  13.  Distinction  between 
ministers  and  a  ministry,  IV. 
13.  A  Prime  Minister  hate- 
ful in  former  times  to  Eng- 
lishmen, IV.  13. 

Mitchelbume,  Colonel  John; 
appointed  governor  of  Lon- 
donderry, IV.  228. 

Money;  issue  of  base,  by 
James H.,  inIreland,IV.213. 
Allusion  to  Wood's  patent, 
IV.  215. 

Monmouth,  Earl  of;  Mordaunt 
created,  IV.  121.  His  attack 
on  Halifax  in  the  Lords,  V. 
74.  Resigns  his  seat  at  the 
Treasury,  V.  214,  note.  Sets 
out  for  Torrington's  fleet, 
V. 271. 

Montgomery,  Sir  James;  sup- 

Eorts  the  resolution  of  the 
cottish  Convention  decla- 
ring the  throne  vacant,  IV. 
284.  Appointed  a  Commis- 
sioner to  carry  the   instru- 



ment  of  government  of  the 
Scotch  Convention  to  J^on- 
don,  IV.  289.  His  talents 
and  character,  IV.  294.  295. 
Appointed  Lord  Justice 
Clerk,  IV.  29G.  His  disap- 
])ointment,  IV.  29G.  Forms 
the  Club,  IV.  296. 

Montrose;  his  Highlanders, 
V.  3.  36.  43. 

Mordaunt,  Charles  Viscount; 
placed  at  the  head  of  the 
Treasury,  IV.  20.  His  cha- 
racter, IV.  20.  His  jealousy 
of  Delamere,  IV.  65.  His 
character,  IV.  65.  Created 
Earl  of  Monmouth,  IV.  121. 
See  Monmouth,  Earl  of. 

Morison,  James,  of  London- 
derry, IV.  145.  His  consul- 
tation with  the  troops  from 
the  city  walls,  iV.  145. 

Mountcashel,  Lieutenant  Ge- 
neral Macarthy,  Viscount; 
lavs  siej^e  to  the  castle  of 
Crum,  IV.  241.  Defeated  at 
the  battle  of  Newton  Butler, 

IV.  242.  Violates  his  parole, 

V.  247.     See  Macarthy. 
Mountjoy,    "William    Stewart, 

Viscount;  sent  to  pacifj' 
Ulster,  IV.  146.  His  cha- 
racter and  qualifications, 
IV.  146.  Founder  of  the 
Irish  Royal  Society,  IV.  146. 
His  reception  of  the  deputa- 
tion from  Enniskillen,  IV, 
147.  His  advice  to  them, 
IV.  147.  Sent,  with  Kice, 
on  an  embassy  to  St.  Ger- 
mains,  IV.  152.  Arrives  in 
France,  and  is  thro-vsTi  into 

the  Bastile,  IV.  163.  In- 
cluded in  the  Irish  Act  of 
Attainder  while  in  the  I5as- 
tile,  IV.  216. 

Mountjoy,  merchant  ship; 
brealvs'  the  boom  at  the 
siege  of  Londonderrj',  IV. 
234.  Her  brave  master  kill- 
ed, IV.  235. 

Mourne  river,  the,  IV.  244. 

Mulgrave,  John  Sheffield,  Earl 
of;  plights  his  faith  to  AVil- 
liam  HI.,  IV.  32. 

Mull,  Isle  of;  occupied  by  the 
Irish,  under  Cannon,  V.  43. 

Munroe,  Captain;  takes  the 
command  of  the  Camero- 
nians  at  Dunkeld,  V.  41. 

Munros,  the,  IV.  327. 

Murray,  Captain  Adam;  calls 
the  people  of  Londonderry 
to  amis,  IV.  190.  Meets  the 
flag  of  truce  from  James,  IV. 

195.  Refuses  to  surrender, 
IV.  196.     Makes  a  sally,  IV. 

196.  The  Murray  Club,  IV. 

MuiTay,  Lord  (eldest  son  of 
the  Marquess  of  Athol); 
calls  the  clan  Athol  to  arms 
for  King  ^Villiam,  V.  19. 
Demands  to  be  admitted  to 
Rlair  Castle,  V.  20.  Besieges 
thecastle,  V.  21.  Raises  the 
siege,  V.  23. 

Mus^rave,  Sir  Christopher;  his 
opmion  on  the  Coronation 
OathBill,  IV.  117.  note. 

Mutiny  at  Ipswich,  IV.  38.  The 
first  Mutiny  Bill  passed,  IV. 
42.  Extreme  distrust  with 



wliich  the  measure  was  re- 
garded, IV.  4G. 

Nagle,  Sir  Richard;  appointed 
Attorney  General  of  Ireland, 
IV.  130.  Clarendon's  opi- 
nion of  him,  IV.  ISO.  note. 
Returned  for  Cork  to  the 
Parliament  of  James  in  Dub- 
lin, IV.  202.  Chosen  Speaker, 
IV.  205.  Accepts  the  seals 
fi-om  James  in  Dublin,  V.86. 

Navy ;  maladministration  of 
the,  during  the  reigns  of 
Charles  II.  and  James  II., 
IV.  61.  Its  condition  under 
Torrington,  V.  99.  Inquu-y 
of  the  House  of  Commons 
into  the  abuses  of  the,  V. 
165.  CoiTuption  of  the  Navy 
Board,  V.  165. 

Newry;  destruction  of,  V.  88. 

Newton,  Sir  Isaac ;  his  obser- 
vatory over  Trinity  College 
gate,  V.  200.  Gives  his  vote 
to  Su- Robert  Sawyer,  V.201. 

Newton  Butler ;  battle  of,  IV. 
241.  Compared  with  that  of 
Killiecrankie,  V.  33. 

Nicene  Creed,  V.  139. 

Nicolaus  Mysticus;  depriva- 
tion of,  referred  to,  IV.  102. 

Nimeguen,  Treaty  of,  IV.  38. 

Nisbet,  John;  the  Mr.  Nisby 
of  the  Spectator,  IV.  98. 

Nithisdale;  "rabbling"  of  the 
clergy  in,  IV.  249. 

Noble,  Le,  aFrench  lampooner, 
IV.  120.  note.  His  two  pas- 
quinades, IV.  120.  note.  His 
assertion  that  Jeffreys  was 

poisoned  by  William  III.,  V. 
169.  note. 

Nonconfomiists ;  their  union 
•with  the  Conformists  against 
Popery,  IV.  70.  Their  gra- 
titude for  the  Declaration  of 
Indulgence,  IV.  72.  The 
Toleration  Act  passed,  IV. 

Nonjurors;  proposal  to  leave 
them  to  the  mercy  of  the 
King,  IV.  106.  Passing  of 
the  bill  for  settling  the 
Oaths  of  Allegiance  and 
Supremacy,  IV.  115.  Their 
arguments  against  taking 
the  oaths,  V.  110.  111.  Their 
notions  of  the  theory  of  go- 
vernment, V.  1 1 3.  The  non- 
jurors of  the  highest  rank, 
V.  118.  Ken,  V.  119.  Leslie, 
V.  121.  Sherlock,  V.  122. 
Hickes,  V.  124.  Jeremy  Col- 
lier, V.  125.  Dodweli,  V. 
126.  Kettlewell  and  Fitz- 
william,  V.  129.  General 
character  of  the  nonjuring 
clergy,  V.  130.  Theirpoverty, 
V.  131.  Their  subsequent 
lives,  V.  132.  Cibber's  play 
ofThe  Nonjuror,  V.  133. 

Nonresistance ;  zeal  of  the 
clergy  in  favour  of,  IV.  4. 
Submission  of  the  advocates 
of  the  doctrine  to  the  de- 
crees of  the  Convention,  IV. 

North,  Sir  Dudley;  his  exami- 
nation before  the  Murder 
Committee,  V.  177. 

Nottingham ,  Daniel  Finch, 
Earl  of;  appointed  Secretary 



of  State  in  the  first  ministry 
of  William  m.,  IV.  18.  Po- 
litical school  to  which  he  bo- 
longed,  IV.  18.  Declines 
the  offer  of  the  Great  Seal, 

IV.  21.  His  quarrels  with 
Shrewsbury,  IV.  G-1.  His 
views  concerning  ecclesiasti- 
cal polity,  IV.  79.  Discus- 
sion on  his  Comprehension 
Bill,  IV.  110.  His  pertina- 
city in  opposing  the  bill  for 
declaring  the  acts  of  the  late 
Parliament  to  be  valid,  V. 
232,  233.  Becomes  sole  Se- 
cretary, V.  252.  Visits  Crone 
in  Newgate,  V.  267. 

Nugent,  Thomas;  appointed 
Chief  Justice  of  the  Irish 
King's  Bench,  ly.  130.  He- 
cognises  the  violence  and 
spoliation  of  theMerrj  Boys 
as  a  necessary  evil,  I\.  157. 

Gates,  Titus;  hatred  with 
which  he  was  regarded  by 
the  High  Church  party,  iV. 
71.  His  imprisonment  in 
Newgate,  V.  50.  Regarded 
as  a  martjT  by  many  fana- 
tics, V.  50.  fiis  reappear- 
ance in  "Westminster  Hall 
and  the  Court  of  Requests, 

V.  51.  His  personal  ap- 
pearance and  manners,  V. 
51.  Brings  his  sentence  be- 
fore the  House  of  Lords  by 
writ  of  error,  V.  51.  Ordered 
to  the  Marshalsea  for  a 
breach  of  privilege,  V.  52. 
Refusal  of  the  Lords  to  re- 
verse his  sentence,    V.  54. 

Bill  annulling  his  sentence 
brought  into  the  House  of 
Commons,  V.  55.  Pardoned 
and  pensioned,  V.  59. 

Oath,  Coronation.  See  Coro- 
nation Oath. 

Oath  of  Allegiance  and  Supre- 
macy; the,  required  of  the 
members    of  both  Houses, 

IV.  31.  82.  Discussion  on 
the  bill  for  settling  the,  IV. 
99.  Divided  opinions  of  the 
Iligh  Church  clerg)'  respect- 
ing the  Oath  of  Supremacy, 

V.  106.  Arguments  for  and 
against  taking  the  oaths,  V. 
107.  110. 

O'Donnels;  their  struggle 
against  James  I.,  IV.  141. 

Oldmixon;  his  statements  re- 
ferred to ,  IV.  SO.  note. 

Omagh;  arrival  of  James  H. 
at,'  IV.  184.  Wretchedness 
of,  IV.  184.  Destroyed  by 
the  Protestant  inhabitants, 
IV.  162.  184. 

O'Neil;  struggle  of  the  house 
of,  against  James  I.,  IV.  141. 

O'Neil,  Sir  Neil;  his  part  in  the 
siege  of  Londonderr}-,  IV. 

Orraond,  Duke  of ;  appointed 
Lord  High  Constable  at  the 
coronation  of  William  and 
Mars',  IV.  118.  Created  a 
Knight  of  the  Garter,  IV. 
120.  Meeting  of  noblemen 
and  gentlemen  interested  in 
Ireland  at  his  house, IV.  140. 

Ossian;  reference  to,  IV.  309. 

Otway,  Thomas;  his  "Venice 
Preserved,"  IV.  52. 



Outlawry;  the  Act  of  Edward 
VI.  relating  to,  V.  190. 

Painted  Chamber,  the,  V.  58. 

Paintings  of  Charles  1.;  fate 
which  they  met,  IV.  57.  The 
cartoons  of  Raphael,  IV.  57. 
The  Triumphs  of  Andrea 
Mantegna,  IV.  57.  note. 

^latinate;  the,  devastated  by 
a  French  army  under  Mar- 
shalDuras,IV.  123.  Ravaged 
by  Marshal  Turenne,  IV.  123. 
Sufferings  of  the  people,  IV. 
128,  124.  The  cry  of  ven- 
geance from  surrounding  na- 
tions, IV.  125.  Desolation 
of  the,  V.  275. 

Palatine,  Elector;  his  castle 
turned  into  a  heap  of  ruins 
by  the  French  under  Duras, 
IV.  124. 

Papists.  See  Roman  Catholics. 

Pardoners,  the,  of  Germany, 
IV.  95. 

Parker,  Bishop  of  Oxford,  IV. 

Parliament;  the  Convention 
turned  into  one,  IV.  27. 
Etymology  of  the  word,  IV. 
31.  Members  of  bothHouses 
required  to  take  the  Oath  of 
Allegiance,  IV.  31,  32.  The 
Oxford  Parliament,  IV.  81. 
Parliament ,  according  to 
some,  not  competent  to  com- 
pel a  bishop  to  swear  on  pain 
of  deprivation,  IV.  101.  Pre- 
sents an  address  to  William 
HI.  to  summon  Convocation, 
IV.  113.     Sitting  of,  on  an 

Easter  Monday,  IV.  113. 
Disputes  in  the,  V.  45.  Pro- 
rogued, V.  45.  Reversal  of 
attainders,  V.  46.  et  seq.  Dis- 
putes about  the  Bill  of 
Rights,  V.  59—61.  Quarrel 
about  a  Bill  of  Indemnity, 
V.  62.  Recess  of  the  Parlia- 
ment, V.  80.  Meets  again, 
V.  161.  Prorogued  by  Wil- 
liam, V.  196.  Dissolved,  and 
writs  for  a  general  election 
issued,  V.  199.  Rise  and  pro- 
gress of  parliamentary  cor- 
ruption in  England,  V.  206. 
Meeting  of  the  new  Parlia- 
ment, V.  220.  Bill  brought 
into  the  Lords  declaring  all 
the  acts  of  the  Convention 
valid,  V.  232.  The  Parlia- 
ment prorogued,  V.  243.  The 
Irish  Parliament  passes  an 
Act  annulling  the  authority 
of  the  English  Parliament, 
IV.  207. 
Parliament, Irish;  assembles  in 
Dublin,  IV.  201.  The  House 
ofPeer8,IV.201.  The  House 
of  Commons,  IV.  201.  De- 
ficiency of  legislative  quali- 
ties in  this  Parliament,  IV. 
204.  The  Parliament  House 
on  College  Green,  IV.  204. 
Speech  of  James  II.  from  the 
throne,  IV.  205.  Resolutions 
of  the  Commons,  IV.  205. 
Rant  and  tumult  of  the  As- 
sembly, IV.  206.  Judge 
Daly,  IV.  206.  Passes  a  To- 
leration Act  and  an  Act  an- 
nulling the  authority  of  the 
EngUsh  Pai-liament,  IV.  207. 



Acts  passed  for  the  confisca- 
tion of  the  property  of  Pro- 
testants, IV.  207.  Little  in 
common  between  James  and 
his  Tarliament,  IV.  209.  BiU 
drawn  up  for  deposing  all 
the  Protestant  bishops,  IV. 
218.  The  ^reat  Act  of  At- 
tainder, IV.  215.  James 
prorogues    the   Parliament, 

IV.  219. 

Paris  Gazette ;  quotation  from 
the,  IV.  113.  note. 

Patrick,!  )ean  of  Peterborough; 
one  of  the  Ecclesiastical 
Commissioners,  V.  135.  His 
alterations  of  the  Collects, 

V.  141.     Appointed  to  the 
see  of  Chichester,  V.  151. 

Pelham,  Henry;  corruption  of 
his  administration,  V.  211. 

Pemberton,  Judge,  V.46.  note. 

Pembroke,  Thomas  Herbert, 
Earl  of;  bears  the  pointed 
sword  at  the  coronation,  IV. 
118.  Appointed  First  Lord 
ofthe  Admiralty,  V.  214. 

Penn,  "William;  his  scandalous 
Jacobitism,  V.  251.  His  let- 
ter to  James,  V.  251.  Taken 
into  custody,  but  acquitted, 
V.  252.  A  letter  from  James 
to  him  intercepted,  V.  264. 
Taken  before  the  Pri\7 
Council,  V.  264.  His  false- 
hood, V.  264.  Required  to 
give  baU,V.  264. 

Pensionary  of  Holland;  im- 
portance ofthe  office  of,  IV, 

Perth,  James  Drummond,Earl 

of;    obtains  the    estates  of 
Lord  Melville,  IV.  266. 

Peterborough,  Earl  of;  his  im- 
peachment for  high  treason, 
V.  175.  Sent  to  the  Tower, 
V.  175. 

Peterborough  level ;  Crown 
lands  in  the,  V.  215. 

Petre,  Father,  IV.  10. 

Petty.  SirAVilliam;  his  founda- 
tion of  the  town  of  Kenmare, 
IV.  136.  His  ironworks  there, 
IV.  137. 

"Phillida,  Phillida,"  the  song 
of,  IV.  50. 

Phillipps;  his  lost  poem,  the 
Grameis,  IV,  329.  note. 

Photius;  deprivation  of,  re- 
ferred to,  IV.  102. 

Plowden,  Francis;  appointed 
Chief  Minister  of  Finance  in 
the  Dublin  Parliament  of 
James  U.,  IV.  202. 

Plymouth,  garrison  of;  its  dis- 
content and  riotous  conduct, 

IV,  5. 

Politics,  science  of;  its  close 
analogy  to  mechanics,  IV. 

PoUexfen;  appointed  Attorney 
General  and  Chief  Justice  of 
the  Common  Pleas,  IV.  23. 
His  oi)inion  respecting  the 
revenue  of  James  U.,  IV. 

Portland ,  Bentinck ,  Duke  of; 
his  letter  to  the  Scotch  mi- 
nisters  respecting  Mackay, 

V.  39.  Sent  by  William  IIL 
on  a  mission  to  the  Hague, 
V. 186. 


INDEX  10 

Powell,  Sir  John;  appointed  to 

a  judgeship,  IV.  23. 
Powis,  William  Herbert,  Earl 

of;    accompanies  James  II, 

to  Ireland,  IV.  166. 

Powle,  Henry,  speaker  of  the 
Convention ;  his  part  in  the 
proclamation  of  William  and 
Mary,  IV.  1. 

Prayer,  Book  of  Common ;  pro- 
posed revision  of  the,  IV. 

Presbyterians ;  the  last  serious 
attempt  to  bring  them  within 
the  pale  of  the  Church  of 
England,  IV.  69.    Comforts 
of  their  divines,  IV.  97.  Their 
influence  with  their  flocks, 
IV.  97.  Tom  Brown's  remarks 
on,  IV.  98.  note.   Advice  to 
the  Episcopalians  of  Scot- 
land respecting  the  Presby- 
terians, IV.  259.    Compara- 
tive   strength    of    rehgious 
Parties  in  Scotland,  IV.  260. 
heir  hatred  of  the  merciless 
persecutors  of  their  brethren 
of  the  faith,  IV.  279.    Their 
unfavourable  opinion  of  the 
Dutch  Lutherans,  IV.  290. 

Preston,  Richard  Graham, 
Viscount;  his  Jacobitism,  V. 
252. 253.  In  high  favourwith 
Lewis,  V.  253. 

Priests;  the  brokers  of  the 
Court  of  James  II.,  IV.  61. 

Prior,  Matthew;  his  complaint 
that  WilUam  IH.  did  not 
understand  poetical  eulogy, 

X  V  •  D^» 

Privy  Seal;  put  into  commis- 
sion, V.  202. 
Proscriptions  of  the  Protes- 
tants in  Ireland,  IV.  207. 
Sanguinary  proscriptions  of 
Roundheads  and  Cavahers, 
V.  242.  ' 

Protestantism;    its  history  in 
Europe  analogous  to  that  of 
Puritanism  in  England,  IV, 
Protestants;  their  gratitude  to 
Maurice    of   Germany    and 
William  of  England,  IV.  49. 
Their  condition  in  Ireland 
under  the  Roman  Cathohc 
officials,  IV.  131.    Six  thou- 
sand veterans  deprived    of 
their  bread,  IV.  132.     Their 
hopes  centred  in  King  Wil- 
liam, IV.  133.    Panic  among 
them,  IV.  1 34.  History  of  the 
town  of  Kenmare,  IV.  135. 
Musterings  at  the  principal 
Protestant  strongholds,  IV. 
139.  Bold  front  shown  bythe 
Enniskilleners  to  the  Roman 
Catholic    troops,    IV.    140. 
Alarm  of  the  Protestants  of 
Londonderry ,       IV.      143. 
Mountjoy  sent  to  pacify  the 
Protestants    of   Ulster,  IV. 
146,  147.  General  arming  of 
the  RomanCatholics  and  dis- 
arming of  the  Protestants, 
IV.  156.    Approximate  esti- 
mate of  the  pecuniary  losses 
caused  by  the  freebooters,IV, 
160.    The  Protestants  of  the 
south  unable  to  resist  the 
Roman  CathoHcs,  IV.  160. 
Enniskillen    and    London- 



dern'hold  out,  IV.  161.  The 
Protestants  of  Ulster  driven 
before  the  devastating  anny 
of  Richard  Hamilton,  R . 
162.  They  make  a  stand  at 
Dromore,IV.  162.  Their  con- 
dition at  the  landinf^  of 
James  II.,  IV.  170.  They 
abandon  and  destroyOmagh, 
IV,  184.  Character  of  the 
Protestants  of  Ireland,  IV. 
191.  192.  Their  contempt 
and  antipathy  for  the  Ko- 
manCatholicSjIV.  193.  Acts 
passed  for  the  confiscation  of 
the  property  of  the  Protes- 
tants, IV.  207.  Suffering  of 
the  Protestant  clergy  of  Ire- 
land, IV.  208.  The  great  Act 
of  Attainder,  IV.  215.  Cruel 
persecutions  of  the  Protes- 
tants of  Ireland,  IV.  219.  Ko- 
man  Cathohc  troo])s  quar- 
tered in  the  houses  of  sus- 
pected Protestants,  IV.  220. 
Doctor  William  King,  Dean 
of  St.  Patrick's,  IV.  221. 
Konquillo's  indignation  at 
the  cruel  treatment  of  the 
Protestants  in  Ireland,  IV. 
223.  Munificent  relief  af- 
forded to  the  fugitives  who 
escaped  to  England,  IV.  223. 
Actions  of  the  Enniskil- 
leners,  IV.  225.  Distress  of 
Londonderrs-,IV.226.  Cruel- 
ty of  Count  flosen  to  the  Pro- 
testants of  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Londonderry,  IV. 
228.  Extremity  of  distress 
in  Londonderry,  IV.  232. 
The  siege  raised,   IV.  236. 

Gain  the  battle  of  Newton 
Butler,  IV.  241—244.  Atro- 
cious advice  of  Avau.x  to 
James  to  massacre  all  the 
Protestants  of  Ireland,  V.81. 
The  Protestants  desire  to 
revenge  themselves  on  the 
Irish  of  Carrickfergus,  V.87. 
The  p'rench  soldiers  billeted 
on  Protestants  hi  Dublin,  V. 

Puritanism ;  its  histor)'  in  Eng- 
land analogous  to  that  of 
Protestantism  in  Europe,  IV. 

Puritans;  in  what  their  scrupu- 
losity really  consisted ,  IV. 
92.  Their  objections  to  the 
Easter  holidays  in  Parlia- 
ment, IV.  113.  Their  con- 
duct during  their  ascendency 
in  England,  V.  147.  Feelings 
with  which  they  were  re- 
garded by  the  Anglican 
clerg)',  V.  1 48. 

Pusignan;  appointed  third  in 
command  at  the  siege  of 
Londonderr)',  IV.  196.  Is 
mortally  wounded,  IV.  197. 

Quakers;  their  refusal  to  take 
the  Oath  of  Supremacy,  and 
the  penal  consequences,  IV. 
83.  Declarations  required 
from,  under  the  Toleration 
Act,  IV.  83.  Large  numbers 
of,  at  the  time  of  the  Revo- 
lution, IV.  96.  Pecuniary 
losses  sustained  by  them  at 
the  hands  of  the  freebooters 
in  Ireland,  IV.  160. 

Queensberry,  Duke  of;  arrives 



in  Edinburgh  and  takes  his 
place  in  the  Convention,  IV. 
281.  Refuses  to  vote  on  the 
resolution  that  James  had 
forfeited  his  crown,  IV.  284. 

Ramsay's  regiment,  IV.  2 1 .  Re- 
treat of,  at  Killiecrankie,  V. 
27.  30. 

Raphael;  cartoons  of,  at  Hamp- 
ton Court,  IV.  57. 

Rapparees;  their  barbarity  and 
filthiness,  IV.  159.  170.  172. 
The  Protestants  forbidden 
to  possess  arms,  and  their 
houses  at  the  mercy  of  the 
Rapparees,  IV.  220. 

Rehearsal,  the,  V.  55. 

Reresby,  Sir  John,  IV.  10.  121. 

Revenue;  the  public,  at  the 
time  of  the  Revolution  of 
1688,  IV.  35.  The  revenue  of 
the  seventeenth  century,  V. 
221.  Sources  of,  V.  221.  The 
hereditary,  of  the  Crown,  V. 

Revolution,  English;  more  vio- 
lent in  Scotland  than  in  Eng- 
land, IV.245.  Reaction  which 
follows  all  revolutions,  IV.  5. 

Rice,  Stephen ;  appointedChief 
Baron  of  the  Exchequer,  IV. 
130.  Use  he  made  of  his 
power,  IV.  131.  Sent  on  an 
embassy  to  St.  Germains,  IV. 
153.  His  secret  instructions 
as  to  the  offering  of  Ireland 
to  France,  IV.  153.  His  ar- 
rival in  France,  IV.  163. 

Richelieu,  Cardinal,  IV.  49. 

Rights,  Bill  of;  passed  by  the 
Commons,  V.  58.  Disputes 
between  the  Houses  respect- 
ing the  succession  to  the 
crown,  V.  59.  60.  The  bill 
allowed  to  drop,  V.  61.  In- 
troduced again  and  passed, 
V.  163.  The  special  provi- 
sions of  the  Act,  V.  163.  The 
Declaration  against  Tran- 
substantiation,  V.  163.  The 
dispensing  power,  V.  165. 

Rights,  Declaration  of;  doc- 
trine of  the ,  solemnly  reas- 
serted every  year,  IV.  47. 
Turned  into  a  Bill  of  Rights, 
V.  58. 

Robertson,  Alexander  (chief  of 
the  clan  Robertson);  joins 
the  camp  of  the  Highlanders 
at  Blair,  V.  35.  His  literary 
character,  V.  35. 

Robertson ,  the  clan ;  their  ar- 
rival at  the  camp  at  Blair,  V. 
85.  Sent  down  to  occupy 
Perth,  V.  36.  Routed  by 
Mackay  at  Saint  Johnstone's, 
V.  37. 

Rochester,  Lawrence  Hyde, 
Earl  of;  takes  the  Oatn  of 
Allegiance  to  William  IH., 
IV.  33.  Generosity  of  Biu-net 
to  him,  IV.  33. 

Roman  Catholics;  hated  by 
the  soldiery,  IV.  4.  The 
penal  code  enacted  against 
them  by  the  Parliaments  of 
Elizabeth,  IV.  83.  All  the 
highest  offices  of  the  state  in 
Ireland  filled  with  Papists, 
IV.  129.  Not  allowed  to  be 
at  large  in  Enniskillen ,  lY. 



141.  Risinjj:  of  the  whole 
Irish  kingdom,  IV.  154. 
llieir  joy  at  the  arrival  of 
James  II.  in  Ireland,  IV.  169. 
Feelings  with  which  they  re- 
garded James  compared  with 
those  of  the  English  Jaco- 
bites, IV.  177.  Their  fixed 
purpose,  IV.  177.  Contempt 
and  antipathy  of  the  Protes- 
tants of  L'eland  for  the 
Roman  Catholics,  IV.  193. 
Routed  by  the  Ennis- 
killeners  in  Donegal,  IV. 
225.  Close  siege  of  J.ondon- 
derry,  IV.  226.  The  Irish 
raise  the  siege  and  retreat 
to  Strabane,  IV.  236.  De- 
pression of  the  troops,  IV. 
240.  Defeated  at  the  battle 
of  Newton  Butler,  IV.  241— 
243.  They  rally  round  James 
in  immense  numbers,  V.  85. 
Rosen,  Count;  the  chief  com- 
mand of  the  French  placed 
at  the  disposal  of  James  II. 
given  to,  IV.  165.  His  talents 
and  character,  IV.  186. 
Placed  in  command  in 
James's  army  in  Ireland,  IV. 
186.  Returns  with  James  to 
Dublin,  IV.  196.  Appointed 
to  conduct  the  siege  of  Lon- 
donderry, IV.  228.  His 
cruelty,  IV.  228.  James's 
disgust  at  his  conduct,  IV. 
229.  Recalled  to  Dublin,  IV. 
231.  His  character  compared 
with  that  of  the  Count  of 
Avaux,  IV.  230.  V.  248.  Ad- 
vises James  not  to  hazard  a 
battle  with  Schomberg,  V. 

89.  Recalled  to  France,  V. 

Ross,  Lord;  joins  the  Club, 
IV.  298. 

Roundheads;  their  sanguinary 
proscriptions,  V.  241. 

Rnwe,  member  of  the  House  of 
Commons,  IV.  110.  note. 

Royal  Society  of  Ireland ;  foun- 
dation of  the,  IV.  146. 

Royal  Voyage;  the  drama  so 
called,  V.  96.  note. 

Russell,  Lady,  widow  of  Lord 
William  Russell,  IV.  2  Her 
daughter,  Lady  Cavendish, 

IV,  2.    Her  letter  to  Halifax, 

V.  75.  Her  account  of  the 
peri)lexity  of  Ken  respecting 
the  oaths,  V.  120.  note. 

Russell,  Lord  William,  refer- 
ence to,  IV.  105.  His  at- 
tainder reversed,  V.  46.  His 
upright  and  benevolent  cha- 
racter, V.  46.  Reverence  in 
which  his  memory  was  held 
by  the  Whigs,  V.  47. 

Russell,  Edward;  appointed  to 
adnse  the  Queen  on  naval 
matters,  V.  262.  Sets  out  for 
Torrington's  fleet,  V.  271, 

Ruvigny,  the  Marquess  of;  his 
Huguenot  opinions,  V,  77. 
His  residence  at  Greenwich, 
V,  77.  His  English  connec- 
tions, V,  78,  His  sons,  V,  78. 
His  death,  V.  78. 

RyeHousePlot,  V,  189. 

Sacheverell,  "William;  appoint- 
ed to  a  Commissionersnip  of 
the  Admiralty,  IV.  20.  His 
clause   in   the    Corporation 



Bill,  V.  181.  Its  effect,  V.  182. 
The  clause  lost  on  the  de- 
bate, V. 187. 

Salisbury,  Earl  of;  his  im- 
peachment for  high  treason, 
V.  175.  Sent  to  the  Tower, 
V. 175. 

Salisbury,  see  of;  Burnet  ap- 
pointed to,  IV.  75. 

Sancroft,  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury;  his  refusal  to  obey  the 
precept  of  William  III. ,  IV. 
76.  His  final  submission  and 
foolish  expedients,  IV.  77. 
Letter  from  Bishop  Compton 
to  him,  IV.  91.  note.  Absents 
himself  from  the  coronation 
of  William  and  Mary,  IV. 

Sarsfield,  Colonel  Patrick ;  re- 
turned for  Dublin  to  the 
Irish  Parliament  of  James  11., 
IV.  203.  His  station  and  cha- 
racter, IV.  203.  His  services, 
IV.  203.  V.  95.  Avaux's  opi- 
nion of  him,  IV.  203.  note. 
Abandons  Sligo,  IV.  244. 
Appointed  to  the  command 
of  a  division  sent  into  Con- 
naught,  V.  95.  Raised  to  the 
rank  of  brigadier,  V.  95. 

Sa\vyer,  Sir  Jlobert;  his  opi- 
nion on  the  Coronation  Oath 
Bill,  IV.  117.  note.  His  case 
brought  before  the  House  of 
Commons,  V.  188.  His  con- 
nection with  the  State  Trials 
of  the  preceding  reign,  V. 
189.  Hismanly  stand  against 
Popery  and  despotism,  V. 
1 89.  Called  by  the  House  to 
account  for  his  conduct  in 

the  case  of  Sir  Thomas  Aim- 
strong,  V.  190.  Excepted 
from  the  Indemnity  and  ex- 
pelled from  the  House,  V. 
192.  Returned  to  the  new 
House  of  Commons  by  the 
University  of  Cambridge,  V. 

Scarborough,  Mayor  of ;  tossed 
inablanket,  IV.  241. 

Schomberg,  Frederic,  Count 
of;  appointed  to  the  com- 
mand of  the  English  contin- 
gent to  aid  Holland,  IV.  38. 
Created  a  Knight  of  the 
Garter,  IV.  120.  Orders 
Kirke  to  relieve  London- 
deny  immediately,  IV.  234. 
note.  Entrusted,  with  the 
command  in  Ireland,  V.  77. 
Formation  of  his  army,  V.  77. 
His  wonderful  popularity  in 
England,  V.  78.  His  undoubt- 
ed Protestantism,  V.  78.  A 
grant  of  a  hundred  thousand 
pounds  awarded  to  him  by 
the  Commons,  V.  79.  Returns 
thanks  to  the  House,  V.  79. 
Lands  in  Ireland,  V.  80. 
Takes  Carrickfergus,  V.  87. 
Joined  by  three  regiments  of 
Enniskilleners,  V.  87.  Ad- 
vances into  Leinster,  V.  88. 
Declines  a  battle,  V.  89. 
Frauds  of  the  Etmlish  Com- 
missariat, V.  89.  Entrenches 
himself  near  Dundalk,  V.  91. 
Conspiracy  and  pestilence  in 
his  camp,  V.  92.  Goes  into 
winter  quarters  at  Lisburn, 
V.  95.  His  immense  losses  of 
men,  V.  96.  Various  opinions 



about  liis  conduct,  V.  97. 
Ki3  admirable  despatches, 
Scotland;  the  Revolution  more 
violent  in  Scotland  than  in 
England,  IV.  245.  The 
Church  established  by  law 
odious  to  Scotchmen,  IV. 
2-t6.  Kin^  William  dispenses 
with  the  Act  deprivin<r  Pres- 
bjterians  of  the  elective 
franchise,  IV. 247.  Elections 
for  the  Convention,  IV.  247. 
"Rabbling"  of  the  Episco- 
pal clergy,  IV.  247,  248. 
Dismav  of  the  Scottish  bi- 
shops, IV,  250.  State  of  Edin- 
burgh, IV.  251.  Question  of 
an  Union  between  England 
and  Scotland  raised,  IV.  251. 
Prosperity  of  Scotland  under 
the  free  trade  regulations  of 
Oliver  Cromwell,  IV.  253. 
Its  grievances  under  Charles 
n.,  IV.  254.  A  commercial 
treaty  with  England  pro- 
posed, IV.  254.  blessings  of 
the  Union  of  1707,  IV.  256. 
Opinions  of  AVilliam  III.  on 
Church  government  in  Scot- 
land, IV.  258.  Comparative 
strength  of  religious  parties 
in  Scotland, IV.  2G0.  Meeting 
of  the  Convention,  IV.  270. 
Dishonesty  and  timeserving 
conduct  of  the  statesmen  of 
Scotland  at  the  time  of  the 
Revolution,  IV.  271.  Letter 
from  James  to  the  Estates, 
IV,  275.  Committee  of  the 
Convention  to  frame  a  plan 
of  government,  IV.  283.  Re- 

solution proposed  by  it,  IV. 
283.  Abolition  of  Episcopa- 
cy m  Scotland,  IV.  285.  The 
Scotch  Coronation  Oath  re- 
vised, IV.  289.  "William  and 
Maiy  accept  the  crown  of 
Scotland,  IV.  289.  Discon- 
tent of  the  Covenanters,  IV. 
291.  Ministerial  arrange- 
ments in  Scotland,  IV.  292, 
293.  Scotland  a  poor  coun- 
try at  the  time  of  the  Revo- 
lution, IV.  293.  War  breaks 
outinthe  Highlands,  IV.  298. 
State  of  the  Highlands  at 
that  period,  IV.  298,  299. 
Goldsmith's  comparison  of 
Scotland  with  Holland,  IV. 
300.  note.  Hatred  of  Eng- 
lishmen for  the  very  eight 
of  the  tartan,  IV.  308.  Re- 
flux of  public  feeling,  IV.  308. 
T^Tanny  of  clan  over  clan, 
IV.  313.  Hatred  of  the  neigh- 
bouring clans  for  the  Camp- 
bells, iV.  31G,  317.  Dundee 
and  Balcarras  ordered  to  be 
arrested,  IV.  826.  Dundee 
gathers  the  clans,  IV.  328. 
Mackay's  indecisive  cam- 
paign in  the  Highlands ,  IV. 
331.  War  again  breaks  out  in 
the  Highlands,  V.  17.  Panic 
after  the  battle  of  Killiecran- 
kie,V.  31.  The  Highlanders 
defeated  atDunkeld,  V.  41. 
Dissolution  of  the  Highland 
army,  V.  43.  State  of  the 
Lowlands .  V.  43.  Intrigues 
of  the  Club,  V.  43.  The 
Courts  of  Justice  reopened, 



Scott,  Doctor  John;  his  visit 
to  Jeffreys  in  the  Tower,  V. 

Scottish  troops ;  revolt  of  the, 
under  Schomherg,  IV.  39. 
Defeated  and  taken,  IV.  41. 

Scourers ;  in  the  time  of  Wil- 
liam III.,  IV.  58. 

Seal,  the  Great;  inconveni- 
ences with  which  it  was  borne 
by  any  but  lawyers,  IV.  21. 
Confided  to  a  Commission, 

IV.  22. 

Sedley,  Su- Charles,  V.  221.  His 
talents,  V.  221. 

Separatists;  their  union  with 
their  opponents  against 
Poperj',  IV.  70. 

Session,  Court  of;  Sir  James 
Dah-ymple  appointed  presi- 
dent of  the,  IV.  294.  Sittings 
of,  recommenced,  V.  44. 

Settlement,  Act  of;  repealed  by 
the  Irish  Parliament  of  James 
II.,  IV.  208. 

Seymour,  Sir  Edward;  his  op- 
position to  the  Act  1 W.  &  M. 
sess.  1.  c.  1.,  rV.  30, 31.  Takes 
the  Oath  of  Allegiance,  IV. 
33.  Declares  his  support  of 
measures  for  tranquillizing 
Ireland,  IV.  224.  His  defence 
of  Lord  Halifax  against  the 
attacks  of  John  Hampden, 

V.  180. 

Shales,  Henry,Commissary  Ge- 
neral; his  peculations,  V.  90. 
Cry  raised  against  him,  V. 

Sharp,  John,  Dean  of  Norwich; 
his  interview  with  Lord  Jef- 

freys in  the  Tower,  V.  68.  Ap- 
pointed one  of  the  Eccle- 
siastical Commission,  V.  135. 

Sharpe,  Archbishop,  IV.  274. 

Sherlock,  Doctor  William,  IV. 
88.  Becomes  a  nonjuror,  V. 
122.  His  distinguished  cha- 
racter, V.  122.  His  volumi- 
nous writings,  V.  123.  His 
conflict  with  Bossuet,V.  123. 
His  name  mentioned  with 
pride  by  the  Jacobites,  V.l  23. 
Indulgence  shown  to  him,  V. 

Shields,  Alexander;  appointed 
chaplain  of  the  Cameronian 
regiment, V.  12.  Hisopinions 
and  temper,  V.  12. 

Shovel,  Sir  Cloudesley;  con- 
veys King  William  across  to 
Ireland,  V.  266. 

Shrewsbuiy,  Charles,  Earl  of ; 
appointed  to  a  secretaryship 
in  the  first  government  of 
William  III.,  IV.  19.  His 
youth,  IV.  19.  His  antece- 
dents, IV.  19,20.  Hisquarrels 
with  Nottingham,  IV.  64. 
Absents  himself  from  Par- 
liament during  the  discus- 
sion on  the  Sacramental  Test, 

IV.  110.  His  position  in  the 
Whigparty,V.  181.  Implores 
King  William  to  change  his 
intention  of  leavingEngland, 

V.  194.  His  apostasy  to  the 
cause  of  the  Jacobites,  V.  2 18. 
Sent  to  wait  on  the  Countess 
of  Marlborough  respecting 
the  Princess's  party  in  Par' 
liament,  V.  230.  Scandalous 
repoils  respecting  him  and 



the  Countess,  V.  230.  Hig  ex- 
traordinary conduct,  V.  258. 
His  peculiar  character,  V, 
•259.  His  mother,  V.2G0.  His 
treason,  V.  260.  His  mental 
distress,  V.  261.  His  resigna- 
tion of  the  seals,  V.261.  His 
illness,  V.  261.  Kenewal  of 
his  allegiance,  V.  277.  His 
offer  to  retrieve  the  honour 
of  the  English  flag,  V.  278. 

Sidney,  Algernon;  reference  to, 
IV.  105.  His  attainder  re- 
versed, V.  48. 

Skv,  the  Macdonalds  of,  IV. 

Slane,  Lord;  his  part  in  the 
siege  of  Londonderry,  IV. 

Sleaford,  battle  of,  IV.  41. 

Sligo;  musterings  of  the  Eng- 
lishry  at,  IV.  139.  Taken  by 
theRoman  Catholics, IV,1G0. 
Abandoned  by  Sarsfield,  IV. 
244.  Occupied  by  Kirke,IV. 

Smith,  Aaron ;  appointed  Soli- 
citor to  the  Treasury',  IV.  26. 
His  scandalous  antecedents, 

IV.  26. 

Smith,  Adam,  IV.  85. 

Society,  English;  state  of  Court 
society  at  the  time  of  the  Re- 
volution, IV.  60. 

Solmes,  Count  of;  commands 
a  brigade  of  Dutch  troops 
under  Schomberg  in  Ireland, 

V.  77. 

Somers,  John  (aflenvardsLord 
Somers);  his  opinion  respect- 
ing the  revenue  derived  by 
James  II.  from  the   parlia- 

mentary  grant,  IV.  S4.  His 
reflections  on  the  injustice  of 
the  Lords'  decision  on  the 
sentence  on  Gates,  V.  54. 
Chief  orator  in  the  free  con- 
ference with  the  Lords,  V. 
56.  His  proud  appearance  in 
the  Painted  Chamber,  V.  58. 
Draws  up  a  manifesto  from 
the  Commons  to  the  Lords, 
V.  59.  brings  up  the  report 
on  the  Corporation  Bill,  V. 
181.  His  disapproval  of  the 
violence  of  the  Whigs,  V.  186. 
His  speech  on  the  bill  for  de- 
claring the  acts  of  the  late 
Parliament  valid,  V.  233. 

Somers  Tracts,  the,  IV.  120. 

Somerset,  Duke  of;  carries  the 
Queen's  crown  at  the  coro- 
nation, IV.  118. 

Sophia,  Duchess  of  Brunswick 
Lunenburg;  proposed  by 
William  III.  as  the  successor 
to  the  Crown  of  England, 
V.  60. 

Sovereign;  his  position  in  the 
government,  before  and  after 
the  Revolution,  IV.  13. 

Spain;  her  alliance  with  Eng- 
land, IV.  122.  Manifesto 
of,  declaring  war  against 
France,  IV.  127.  Joins  the 
coalition  against  France,  V. 

Spectator;  the,  reference  to, 
IV.  98.  note. 

Spires;  cathedral  of,  destroyed 
by  theFrench  under  Marshal 

^  Duras,  IV.  124. 

Sprat,  Thomas,  Bishop  of  Ro- 



Chester;  plights  his  faith  to 
WiUiam  III.,  IV.  32.  Carries 
the  chalice  at  the  coronation 
of  William  and  Mary,  IV.  11 8. 
One  of  the  Ecclesiastical 
Commissioners,  V.  187.  His 
doubts  about  the  legality  of 
the  Commission,  V.  137.  Ab- 
sents himself,  V.  137. 

Stamford,  Earl  of;  appointed 
Chairman  of  the  Murder 
Committee,  V.  176. 

States  General;  letter  from 
William  III.  to  the,  on  his 
accession,  IV.  3.  Its  mani- 
festo ,  declaring  war  against 
France,  IV.  127.  Its  treaty 
with  England  and  the  Em- 
peror of  Germany,  V.  102. 

Stewarts  of  Appin;  their  alarm 
at  the  power  of  the  Earl  of 
Argyle,  IV.  316.  Muster  of 
the,  at  Lochaber,  IV.  328. 
Their  arrival  at  the  camp  at 
Blah-,  V.  35. 

Stillingi9eet,Deanof  St.Paul's; 
one  of  the  Ecclesiastical 
Commission,  V.  135.  Ap- 
pointment to  the  see  of  Win- 
chester, V.  151. 

Stirling  Castle,  V.  31. 

Stonehenge,  IV.  84. 

Strabane,  Claude  Hamilton, 
Lord;  summons  the  people 
of  Londonderry  to  surrender, 
IV.  195.  Returns  unsuccess- 
ful, IV.  196. 

Strafford,  Earl  of;  included  in 
the  Irish  Act  of  Attainder, 
IV.  215. 

Succession  to  the  English 
crown;  difficulties  respecting 

the  entail,  V.  60.  Suggestion 
that  it  should  be  entailed  on 
Sophia  of  Brunswick,  V.  60. 
The  amendment  rejected  by 
the  Commons,  V.  61. 

Surplice ;  question  of  the ,  dis- 
cussed by  the  Ecclesiastical 
Commissioners,  V.  138. 

Supplies,  power  of  the  House 
of  Commons  over  the,  IV.  35. 

Supremacy;  Oath  of,  IV.  82. 
Discussion  on  the  bill  for 
settling  the,  IV.  99. 

Sutherland,  Colonel  Hugh; 
marches  againstEnniskillen, 
IV.  225.  Declines  an  action, 
and  retreats,  IV.  226. 

Swift,  Dean;  his  misrepresen- 
tations of  Burnet's  conduct, 
IV.  78.  note.  His  opinion  of 
Carstairs,  IV.  296.  note. 

Talbot, lyingDick,  IV.  134.  See 

Talmash,  Thomas;  second  in 
command  to  Marlborough 
under  Prince  Waldeck,  V. 
103.  His  gallantry  at  the 
head  of  the  Coldstreams ,  V. 

Tarbet,  Mackenzie  Viscount; 
his  advice  to  government  re- 
specting the  politics  of  the 
Highlands,  IV.  330.  His 
letter  to  Lochiel,  IV.  331. 

Tempest  (a  Jacobite  agent  from 
St.  Germains) ;  seized  on  the 
road  to  London,  V.  257. 

Temple,  John  (son  of  Sir  Wil- 
liam) ;  employed  on  business 
of  high  importance,  IV.  150. 
Introduces  liichard  Hamil- 

rnv.  FOTTRTn  and  Fnrrn  voLmrEs. 


ton  as  an  apjent  to  nogotiate 
with  Tjrconnel,  IV.  IJO,  151. 
Commits  suicide,  IV.  175. 
Temple,  Sir  William;  his  re- 
treat, IV.  14.  His  rural  seclu- 
sion, IV.  IfiO.  His  son  John, 
IV.  150.  175. 

Tenison,  Archbishop;  one  of 
the  Ecclesiastical  Commis- 
sioners, V.  135.  Entrusted 
with  the  business  of  exami- 
ning the  Liturgj',  V.  40. 

Test  Act;  views  of  Nottingham 
concerning  the,  IV.  80.  At- 
tempt to  relieve  the  Dissen- 
ters from  the,  IV.  99.  Desire 
of  the  ^\^lig3  for  its  aboli- 
tion, IV.  108.  How  viewed 
by  the  Tories,  IV.  109.  Re- 
jection of  a  motion  in  the 
liOrds  for  the  abolition  of, 
IV.  110. 

Theban  legion,  the,  V.  124. 

Thomas,  M.;  his  report  on  the 
defences  of  Londonderry,  V. 
188.  note. 

riUotson,  Archbishop;  his  ser- 
mon on  Evil  Speaking,  IV. 
53.  His  popularity  as  a 
preacher,  V.  1.34.  His  cha- 
racter as  a  theologian,  V.  134. 
His  importance  in  the  Ec- 
clesiastical Commission,  V. 
135.  Appointed  to  the 
Deanery  of  St.  Paul's,  V.  151. 
Promised  the  Primacy,  V. 
151.  His  astonishment  and 
sorrow,  V.  151.  His  testimony 
to  the  humanitv  and  kind- 
ness of  Halifax,  V.  177. 

"To horse,  brave  boys,  toNew- 
ilacaulag,  llistonj.  V. 

market,  to  horse,"  the  song, 
^  IV.  50. 

Tolbooth,  the,  of  Edinburgh, 
IV.  315.  326. 

Toleration;    the   question    of, 

IV.  80."    The  Toleration  Bill 

of  Nottingham,  IV.  80.,  81. 

Ilelief  granted  by  the  Act, 

^  IV.  83. 

Toleration  Act;  review  of  its 
provisions,  IV.  84.  et  seq. 
One  passed  by  the  Parlia- 
ment of  James  II.  at  Dublin, 
IV.  206. 

Tories;  their  submission,  with- 
out loyalty,  to  "William  and 
Maiy,  IV.  7.  Dangers  ap- 
prehended from  them,  IV.  10. 
Their  share  in  the  first  go- 
vernment of  "William,  IV.  15. 
Their  jealousies  and  quarrels 
wiin  ihe  Whigs  in  aU  the 
departments  of  the  govern- 
ment, IV.  65.,  66.  Take  the 
part  of  the  clergy  at  the  dis- 
cussion respecting  the  Acts 
for  settling  the  Oaths  of  Al- 
legiance and  Supremacy, 
IV.  104.,  105.,  109.  Theirview 
of  the  Sacramental  Test,  IV. 
108.  Theirsatisfactionatthe 
result  of  the  Comprehension 
Bill,IV.  112,  113.  Their  an- 
noyance at  the  introduction 
of  the  Coi-poration  Bill,  V. 
181—183.  Their  muster  in 
the  House  to  oppose  the  bill, 
V.184.  Theirtriumph,V.187. 
Their  renewal  of  tiie  debate 
The  bill  thro^^-n 'out,  V.  188. 
Defeated  on  the  discussion 



on  the  Indemnity  Bill,  V,  1 92. 
Their  gratitude  to  William 
for  proroguing  Parliament, 
V.  197.  A  general  election, 
V.  199.  Four  Tories  returned 
for  the  City  of  London, 
V.  200.  Predominance  of  the 
Whigsinl690,  V.202.  Their 
parliamentary  bribery,  V. 
210.,  211.  The  Tories  ad- 
mitted to  a  share  in  the  go- 
•vemment,  V.  215.  Their  ma- 
jority in  the  House ,  V.  232. 
The  war  between  the  two 
parties,  V.  232.  Debates  on 
the  Abjuration  Bill,  V.  234 

Ton-ington,  Herbert,  Earl  of; 
receives  siojnal  marks  of  the 
favour  of  the  Crown,  V.  99. 
His  maladministration  of  the 
navy,  V.  99.  His  vices,  V.  166. 
His  anger  at  being  removed 
from  the  Admiralty,  V.  214. 
His  displeasure  appeased, 
V.  214.  Takes  command  of 
the  fleet  in  the  Do'mi8,V.  269. 
Joined  by  the  Dutch  under 
Evertsen,  V.  269.  Retreats 
before  the  French  towards 
Dover,  V.  270.  Ordered  to 
give  battle  to  Tourville,  V. 
270.  Baseness  of  his  ar- 
rangements of  battle,  V.  272. 
Gives  the  French  battle,  V. 
272.  Defeated,  and  escapes 
into  the  Thames,  V.  273. 
Sent  to  the  Tower,  V.  278. 

Torture;  always  declared  il- 
legal in  England,  IV.  287. 
Declared  by  the  Scottish 
Claim  of  Eights  to  be,  under 

certain  circumstances,  ac- 
cording to  law,  IV.  288. 

Tourville,  Admiral  of  the 
French  fleet;  cruises  in  the 
British  Channel,  V.  268.  His 
seamanlike  qualities,  V.  268. 
Accepts  battle  from  Torring- 
ton,  V.  272.  Defeats  Tor- 
rington  at  the  battle  of 
Beachy  Head,  V.  272.  His 
timidity  of  responsibility,  V. 

Tralee,  IV.  138. 

Transubstantiation;  Declara- 
tion against,  IV.  82.  V.  163. 

Treasurer,  Lord  High;  admi- 
nistration of  the  office  of, 
under  AVilliam  and  Mary,  IV. 

Treasur)',  Board  of;  constitu- 
tion of  the,  by  William  III., 
IV.  20.  Solicitor  to  the,  im- 
portance of  the  duties  of,  IV. 
26.  Corruption  of,  in  the  time 
of  Charles  II.  and  James  II., 
IV.2  6.  Appointment  of  Aaron 
Smith,  IV.  26.  Quan-els  and 
jealousies  of  the  Commis- 
sioners of  the,  IV.  65. 

Treby,  Sir  George;  appointed 
Attorney  General,  IV.  23.  His 
opinion  respecting  the  re- 
venues of  James  it.,  IV.  34. 
His  suggestions  for  suppres- 
sing the  revolt  of  the  soldiers 
at  Harwich,  IV.  40. 

Treves ;  saved  from  destruction 
by  Madame  de  Maintenon, 
IV.  124. 

Trevor,  Sir  John  (Master  of  the 
Rolls);  his  early  life  and 
gambling   propensities,    V. 



212.  His  friendship  with  Jef- 
freys, V.  212.  His  popularity 
among  Hij^h  Ohurchnien,  V, 

213.  Undertakes  tlie  agency 
for  parliamentary  hriliery  in 
the  House  of  Commons,  V. 
213.  Elected  Speaker  of  the 
Commons,  V.  220. 

Turenne,  Marshal,  IV.  49.  His 
ravages  in  the  Palatinate, 
IV.  123. 

Turks;  their  alliance  with 
France  against  the  great 
coalition,  V.  102.  Their  mili- 
tary tactics  in  Servia  and 
Bulgaria,  V.  102.    Victories 

ijained  over  them  by  Prince 
.ewis  of  Baden,  V.  102. 

Turner,  Bishop  of  Ely;  be- 
comes a  nonjuror,  V.  118. 

Tutchin,  John  ;  his  visit  to  Jef- 
freys in  the  Tower,  V.  67. 

TjTConnel,  Lord  Deputy;  en- 
ti-usted  with  the  designs  of 
James  II.  in  Ireland,  IV.  129. 
Ho]ies  of  the  Irishry  centred 
in  him,  IV.  133.  Lving  Dick 
Talbot,  I\'.  134.  His  alarm 
at  the  news  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, IV.  14G.  His  affected 
clemency,  IV.  14G.  Opens  a 
negotiation  with  A\  illiam 
HI.,  IV.  149.  He  determines 
to  raise  the  Irish,  IV.  152. 
Sends  Mountjoy  and  Rice  on 
an  embassy  to  St.  Geraiains, 
IV.  153.  Arrives  at  Cork  to 
meet  James  U.,  IV.  171.  His 
improvements  at  the  Castle, 
IV.  173.  Canies  the  sword 
of  state  before  James,  IV. 
174.     Created  a  Duke,  IV. 

182.     Advises  James  to  re- 
main in  Dublin,  IV.  182. 

Ulster,  alarm  of  the  people  of, 
IV.  133.  et  scq.  Slountjoy 
sentto pacify, IV.  146.  March 
of  Hamilton  against  the  Pro- 
testants of,  IV.  162. 

Uniformit)',  Act  of;  a  grievance 
of  the  Dissenting  clergv,  IV. 

Union  between  England  and 
Scotland;  question  of,  raised, 
IV.  252.  Blessings  of  the 
union  of  1707,  IV.  256. 

Verrio;  his  frescoes  at  Hamp- 
ton Court,  IV.  56. 

Versailles;  farewell  visit  of 
James  II.  to,  IV.  166. 

AValcourt;  skirmish  between 
the  Dutch  and  English  and 
French  at,  V.  103. 

Waldeck,  Prince;  his  command 
of  the  Dutch  and  English  in 
the  war  with  France,  V.  103. 
Defeated  at  Fleurus  by  the 
French  under  the  Duke  of 
Luxemburg,  V.  274. 

AValker,  the  Reverend  George; 
calls  the  people  of  London- 
derry to  arms,  IV.  190.  Ap- 
pointed one  of  the  governors 
of  the  city,  IV.  194.  Unjustly 
accused  of  concealing  food, 
IV.  232.  His  statue  on  the 
bastion,  IV.  238.  The  Walker 
Club,  IV.  239.  His  arrival  in 
London,  V.  168.  His  po- 
pularity, V.  168.  His  gra- 
cious reception  by  the  King 




at  Hampton  Court,  V.  1G8. 
Accused  of  publishing  a  par- 
tial account  of  the  siege  of 
Londonderry,  V.  169.  Ob- 
tains a  grant  from  the  Com- 
mons for  the  widows  and 
orphans  of  the  defenders  of 
Londonderry,  V.  170.  Thank- 
ed by  the  House  for  his  zeal 
and  fidelity,  V.  169. 

Walker,  Obadiah;  his  impeach- 
ment for  treason,  V.  176. 
Sent  to  the  Tower,  V.  176. 

War  declared  against  France, 
IV.  127,  128. 

Ward,  Seth,  Bishop  of  Salis- 
bury; his  death,  IV.  75. 

Warrington,  Earl  of;  Delamere 
created,  V.  204.  See  Dela- 

Wash ,  the ;  state  of  the  coun- 
try near  the,  at  the  time  of 
the  Revolution  of  1688,  IV, 

Watford;  Scotch  troops  of 
James  U.  stationed  near,  IV. 

Weems  Castle,  V.  30. 

Wellington,  Ai-thur,  Duke  of; 
reference  to  him,  V.  80. 

West  Indies ;  trade  of,  at  the 
time  of  the  Revolution,  IV. 

Wharton,  Lord;  his  speech  on 
the  Abjuration  Bill,  V.  239. 

Whigs;  their  attendance  at 
Court  on  the  evening  of  the 
proclamation  of  William  and 
Mary,  IV.  1.  Peculiarity  of 
their  fondness  for  the  new 
monarchs,  IV.  11.  The  Whig 
theory  of  government,   IV. 

11.  Their  share  in  William's 
first  government,  IV.  15. 
Their  iealousies  and  quarrels 
with  tne  Tories  in  all  the  de- 
partments of  the  govern- 
ment, IV.  65,  66.  Conces- 
sions of  the  government  to 
the,  IV.  81.  Division  among 
the,  respecting  the  Cora- 
prehension  Bill,  IV.  90.  Op- 
pose the  clergy  at  the  dis- 
cussions on  the  Acts  for 
settling  the  Oaths  of  Alle- 
giance and  Supremacy,  IV. 
103.  Their  view  of  the  Sa- 
cramental Test,  IV.  109,  1 10. 
Their  objections  to  an  Ec- 
clesiastical Commission  for 
revising  the  liturgy  and  ca- 
nons, TV.  110,  111.  Pleasure 
which  the  result  afforded 
them,  IV.  113.  Elections  for 
the  shires  and  burghs  to  the 
Scottish  Convention  almost 
all  fall  on  Whigs,  IV.  247. 
Their  support  of  the  Duke 
of  Hamilton  in  the  Conven- 
tion, IV.  270.  They  elect  him 
as  President,  IV.  271.  Con- 
duct of  the  Whig  Club  of 
Edinburgh,  V.43,  44.  Rever- 
ence with  which  the  Whigs 
of  England  regarded  the 
memory  of  Lord  William 
Russell,  V.  46.  Redress  ob- 
tained hy  some  ]ivkig"VVhigs 
for  injuries  sustained  during 
the  preceding  reign,  V.  46. 
Dissatisfaction  of  the  Whigs 
withWiUiam,  V.  70.  Their 
views  of  the  end  for  which 
all  governments  had  been  in- 



stitutc(l,V.  114.  Their  osten- 
tatious triumph  over  the  di- 
vided   priesthood,    V.   II j. 
Their    violence   and  vindic- 
tiveness  in  the  House  oi'Com- 
mons,  V.  174.     Their  crafty 
conduct  on  the  Corporation 
Bill,  V.  181.  Their  successful 
opposition  to  the  Indemnity 
Bill,     V.  187,    188.      Their 
triumph  over  the  Tories,    V. 
188.  Their  opposition  to  the 
King  going  to  Ireland,  V. 
195.     Lesson    they    receive 
from  the  King,  V.  197.  A  ge- 
neral election,  V.  19D.  Their 
artifices  and  exertions  in  the 
CityofLondon.  V.199.  Four 
Tories  returned  for  the  Citj", 
V.  200.  Their  parliamentarv 
bribery,  V.  210.,  211.     Dis- 
content of  the  Whigs  at  the 
successes  of  the  Tories,  V. 
215.     Dealings  of  some  of 
the  Whigs  with  Saint  Ger- 
main s,  V.  218.    Their  wary 
tactics  in  the  House,  V.  231. 
Their    artful   parliamentarv 
warwhh  theloriis,  V.  232. 
Their    only    victory  during 
the  whole  session,  V,  233. 
Stormy  debates  on  the  Ab- 
juration Bill,  V.  234. 

White,  Bishop  of  Peter- 
borough; becomes  a  non- 
juror, V. 118. 

Whitehall;  scene  at  the  Ban- 
queting House  of,  IV.  Ke- 
moval  of  the  Court  from,  to 
Hampton  Court,  IV.  54.  AV'^il- 
liam    and  Mary  accept  the 

C^o^vn    of  Scotland  in  the 
Council  chamber  at,  IV,  289. 

Wicklow;  lawlessness  in,  at 
the  time  of  Tyrconnel's  re- 
bellion, IV.  157. 

AVight,  Isle  of;  the  hostile 
fleets  of  England,  Holland, 
and  France  lying  off,  V.  2G9. 

A\'ildman;  appointed  Post- 
master General,  IV.  2G. 

Wilkie;  reference  to  his  Epi- 
goniad,  IV.  309. 

William  III.;  proclaimed  King, 
IV.  1.  Gi»rgeous  assemblage 
at  the  palace  on  the  evening 
of  the  proclamation,  IV.  1. 
Kejoicings  throughout  Eng- 
land and  in  Holland,  IV.  2. 
His  letter  to  the  States  Ge- 
neral ,  IV.  3.  Begins  to  be 
an.xious  and  unhappy,  IV.  3. 
Discontent  of  the  clergy  and 
army,  IV.  3.  Abatement  in 
the  public  enthusiasm  for 
the  new  monarchs,  IV.  4. 
Reactionary  feehng  amongst 
the  people,  IV.  5.  Dangers 
of  tne  government,  IV.  7. 
"\\"illiam  s  reservation  to 
himself  of  the  direction  of 
foreign  atl'airs,  IV.  14.  His 
jjeculiar  fitness  for  foreign 
negotiation,  IV.  14.  His  se- 
lection of  his  first  ministers 
and  high  of^cers,  IV.  15.  His 
state  visit  to  the  Convention, 
IV.  29.  His  proposal  to  abo- 
lish hearth  money,  IV.  32. 
His  measures  for  the  suj)- 
pression  of  the  revolt  of  the 
soldiers  at  Ipswich,  IV.  41. 
His  politic  clemency  to  the 


mDEX   TO 

leaders  of  the  rebellion 
IV.  42.  His  unpopularity. 
IV.  48.  His  manners,  IV, 
48,49.  His  talents,  IV.  49, 
How  regarded  by  foreigners 
IV.  49.  And  by  Englishmen 
IV.  50.  His  fi-eezing  man 
ners  compared  with  the 
vivacity  and  good  nature  of 
Charles  II.  and  the  sociable- 
ness  of  James  II.,  IV.  50. 
His  incivility  to  the  Princess 
Anne,  IV.  51.  His  bad 
English,  IV.  51.  Incapable 
of  enjoying  our  literature, 
IV.  52.  His  dislike  of  back- 
biting, IV.  52.  His  ill  health, 
IV.  54.  Removes  fromWhite- 
hall  to  Hampton  Court,  IV. 
55.  Architecture  ,and  gar- 
dening his  favourite  amuse- 
ments, IV.  55.  His  palace 
of  Loo,  IV.  55.  56.  Discon- 
tent excited  by  the  removal 
of  the  Court  fromAVhitehall, 
IV.  57.  Resides  for  a  time  at 
Holland  House,  IV.  58.  Pur- 
chases Kensington  House, 
IV.  58.  His  foreign  favour- 
ites ,  IV.  58.  His  reputation 
lowered  by  the  maladminis- 
tration of  the  two  previous 
reigns,  IV.  62.  Dissensions 
among  his  ministers,  IV.  63. 
His  difficulties  in  conse- 
quence, IV.  67.  His  excel- 
lent management  of  the  de- 
Jartment  of  Foreign  Affairs, 
V.  67.  Religious  disputes, 
IV.  69.  His  views  respecting 
ecclesiastical  polity ,  IV.  74. 
Appoints  Burnet  to  the  va- 

cant see  of  Salisbury,  IV.  75. 
His  conduct  respecting  the 
Oaths  of  Allegiance  and 
Supremacy  proposed  to  be 
exacted  from  the  clergy,  IV. 
1 08.  Promises  Parliament 
to  summon  Convocation,  IV. 
113.  Passing  of  the  Corona- 
tion Oath,  IV.117.  His  coro- 
nation,IV.117,118.  Honours 
bestowed  by  him,  IV.  120. 
Accom])lishes  the  formation 
of  the  great  coalition  against 
France,  IV.  122.  Receives 
an  address  from  the  Com- 
mons condemning  the  bar- 
barities of  Lewis  in  the  Pa- 
latinate, IV.  128.  War  de- 
clared against  France,  IV. 
128.  Manifesto  of  William. 
IV.  128.  Effect  in  L-eland 
of  his  march  to  London,  IV. 
146,  147.  His  negotiation 
with  the  Lord  De})uty  Tyr- 
connel,  IV.  147.  Open  re- 
bellion of  Tyrconnel,IV.152. 
et  seq.  Landing  and  recep- 
tion of  James  II.  in  Leland, 
169—172.  Discontent  of  the 
7nultitude  in  England  with 
the  neglect  of  William,  IV. 
174.'  His  letter  to  the  brave 
and  loyal  inhabitants  of  Lon- 
donderiy,  IV.  238.  Dispen- 
ses with  the  Act  depriving 
Presbysterians  of  the  elec- 
tive franchise,  IV.  247.  Out- 
rages of  the  Covenanters  in 
Scotland,  IV.  248.  Their 
conduct  offensive  to  Willi  am, 
IV.  250.  His  opinions  about 
Church  government  in  Scot- 



land,  IV.  258.  His  recom- 
mendations to  the  Scottish 
Episcopulians,  IN'.  2 09.  His 
letter  to  the  Convention,  IV. 
261.  His  instructions  to  his 
agents  in  Scotland,  IV.  2G2. 
Absurd  story  about  A\'illiam 
and  Viscount  Dundee,  IV. 
2ti8.  note.  His  letter  to  the 
Scottish    Convention    read, 

IV.  277.  Thev  return  him  a 
letter  of  Ihaiiks,  IV.  2S1. 
They  proclaim  him  King  in 
Kdinburgh, IV.  2S5.  Accepts 
the  Crown  of  Scotland,  IV. 
289.  His  wisdom  and  dig- 
nity on  this  occasion,IV.291. 
His  ministerial  arrange- 
ments hi  Scotland,  IV.  292, 
293.  War  breaks  out  in  the 
Highlands  of  Scotland,  IV. 
298.     The    war  suspended, 

V.  9.  The  Covenanters' 
scruples  about  taking  up 
arms  for  King  'William ,  V.  9. 
The  battle  of  Killiecrankie, 
V.  30.  William  proposes  to 
the  Lords  that  the  crown 
should  be  entailed  on  Sophia 
of  Brunswick,  V.  60.  Acts  as 
sponsor  to  the  son  of  the 
Princess  Anne,  V.(31.  Dissa- 
tisfaction of  the  Whigs  with 
William,  V.  70.  I'repara- 
tions  for  a  campaign  in 
Ireland,  V.  76.  William's 
difficulties  in  foreign  affairs, 
V.  101.  Meeting  of  Convo- 
cation, V.  142.  The  clergy 
ill  affected  towards  him,  V. 
143.  His  warrant  and  mes- 
sage to  Convocation,  y. 156. 

His  inquire*  into  the  state  of 
the  navy.'V.  1C5.  His  dis- 
pleasure with  the  Tories 
respecting  the  Corporation 
Bill,  V.  18.3.  His  anxiety 
respecting  the  result  of 
the  bill,  V.  18li.  His  weari- 
ness of  the  contentions  of 
"Whigs  and  Tories,  V.  193. 
He  purposes  toretire  to  Hol- 
land, V.  194.  Induced  to 
change hisresolution,  V.I9  I. 
Determines  to  proceed  him- 
self to  Ireland,  V.  195.  The 
Whigs  oppose  his  going,  V. 
195.  He  prorogues  Parlia- 
ment, V.  196.  Gratitude  of 
the  Tories  to  him,  V.  197. 
His  conciliatory  policy,  V. 
198.  Changes  effected  hy 
the  King  in  the  executive 
departments,  V.  201.  His 
scruples  res])ecting  parlia- 
mentary bribery  overcome, 
V.  212.  Hopes  of  the  Jaco- 
bites from  riis  absence  in 
Ireland ,  V.  220.  His  speech 
on  the  opening  of  Parlia- 
ment, V.  221.  Not  on  good 
terms  with  the  PrinccssAnne, 
V.  224.  His  visit  to  the  Lords 
during  the  debate  on  the 
Abjuration  Rill,  V.  239.  He 
sends  down  an  Act  of  Grace, 
V.  240.  Peculiar  character 
of  his  clemency,  V.  243.  Ho 
prorogues  the  Parliament,  V. 
243.  The  Queen  appointed 
to  administer  the  govern- 
ment during  his  absence  in 
Ireland,  V.  243.  His  pre- 
paration3,V.250.  Despatches 


Index  to  the  fourth  and  fifth  volumes. 

from  St.  Gennalns  lo  the 
English  Jacobites  delivered 
into  his  hands ,  V.  25G.  His 
difficulties,  V.  258.  His  se- 
lection of  nine  Privy  Coun- 
cillors for  Mary's  guidance, 
V.  262.  His  serious  remarks 
on  Clarendon's  conduct,  V. 
2(33.  His  interview  with 
Burnet,  264.  Sets  out  for 
Ireland,  V.  265.  His  em- 
barkation at  Chester,  V.265. 

Williams,  Doctor  (afterwards 
Bishop  of  Chichester);  his 
diary  of  the  proceedings  of 
the  Ecclesiastical  Commis- 
sioners, V.  137.  note. 

Winnington,  Solicitor  Gene- 
ral, IV.  13. 

Wirtemberg,  Duke  of.  See 
Charles  Frederic,  Duke  of 

Wolseley,    Colonel;    sent    to 

the  assistance  of  the  Ennis- 
killeners,  IV.  241.  His  quali- 
fications, IV.241.  His  stanch 
Protestantism,  IV.  241.  De- 
feats Mountcashel  at  the 
battle  of  Newton  Butler, 
IV.  242. 

Wood's  money;  allusion  to, 
IV.  214. 

AVorcester,  Thomas,  Bishop 
of;  dies  a  nonjuror,  V.  118. 

Wren,  Sir  Christopher;  his 
additions  to  Hampton  Court, 
IV.  56. 

Wycherley,  William ;  his  Coun- 
try Wife,  IV.  52. 

York,  Archbishopric  of;  its 
fonner poverty,  V.  149.  Its 
present  importance,  V.  149. 

ZulcRtein;  appointed  Master 
of  the  Robes,  IV.  24. 

Km>  OP  vol..  V. 








VOL.  VI. 













OF     VOLUME     VI. 

William  lands  at  Carrickfergua,  and  proceeds  to  Belfast 
State  of  Dablin 

William's  military  arrantrcments 
William  marches  southward  . 
The  Irish  army  retreats 
Tlie  Irish  make  a  stand  at  the  Boyi 
The  army  of  James  .        . 

Tlie  army  of  William 

Walker,  now  Bishop  of  Dcrry,  accompanies  the  army 
William  reconnoitres  the  Irish  position 
William  is  woanded 
Battle  of  the  Boyne 
Flight  of  James       .        .        . 
Loss  of  the  two  armies  . 

Fall  of  Drogheda    ... 
State  of  Dublin 
James  flies  to  France      .        . 
Dublin  evacuated  by  the  French  and  Irish  troops 
Entry  of  William  Into  Dublin         .... 
Effect  prodaced  in  France  by  the  news  from  Ireland 
Effect  produced  at  Rome  by  the  news  from  Ireland 
Effect  produced  in  London  by  the  news  from  Ireland 
James  arrives  in  France  :  his  reception  there      . 
Tourville  attempts  a  descent  on  England 

Teignmouth  destroyed 

Excitement  of  the  English  nation  against  the  French 

The  Jacobite  Press 

The  Jacobite  Form  of  Prayer  and  Humiliation     . 

Oiamonr  against  the  nonjaring  Bishops 

Military  operations  in  Ireland:  Waterford  taken 

The  Irish  army  collected  at  Limerick  . 

Lanznn  pronounces  that  the  place  cannot  be  defended 

The  Irish  insist  on  defending  Limerick 

Tyrconnel  la  against  defending  Limerick 




































Limerick  defended  by  the  Irlfh  alone  .......  53 

Sarafield  sarprises  the  English  artillery 65 

Arrival  of  Baldearg  O'Donnel  at  Limerick &7 

The  besiegers  suffer  from  the  rains 69 

Unsuccessful  assault  on  Limerick.    The  siege  raised          ...  60 

Tyrconnel  and  Lauzun  go  to  France 62 

William  returns  to  England ib. 

Reception  of  William  in  England i6. 

Expedition  to  the  South  of  Ireland 63 

Marlborough  takes  Cork 65 

Marlborough  takes  Kinsale 66 

Affairs  of  Scotland 67 

Intrigues  of  Montgomery  with  the  Jacobites ib. 

War  in  the  Highlands 69 

Fort  William  built 70 

Meeting  of  the  Scottish  Parliament 71 

Melville  Lord  High  Commissioner 72 

The  government  obtains  a  majority ift. 

Ecclesiastical  legislation 74 

The  coalition  between  the  Club  and  the  Jacobites  dissolved       .        .  81 

The  chiefs  of  the  Club  betray  each  other 83 

General  acquiescence  in  the  new  ecclesiastical  polity         ...  86 

Complaints  of  the  Episcopalians 87 

The  Presbyterian  nonjurors 89 

William  dissatisfied   with  the   ecclesiastical  arrangements  In  Scot- 
land      93 

Meeting  of  the  General  Assembly  of  the  Church  of  Scotland      .        .  ib. 

State  of  affairs  on  the  Continent 95 

The  Duke  of  Savoy  joins  the  coalition ift. 

Supplies  voted 97 

Ways  and  Means 98 

Proceedings  against  Torrington 100 

Torrington's  trial  and  acquittal      ........  102 

Animosity  of  the  Whigs  against  Caermarthen 103 

A  Jacobite  plot 106 

Meeting  of  the  leading  conspirators 107 

The  conspirators  determine  to  send  Preston  to  Saint  Germains          .  109 

Papers  entrusted  to  Preston ib. 

Information  of  the  plot  given  to  Caermarthen 112 

Arrest  of  Preston  and  his  companions ib. 


William's  voyage  to  Holland 115 

William's  entrance  into  the  Hague         .......  117 

Congress  at  the  Hague 120 

William  his  own  minister  of  foreign  affairs         .        .       •       «        .  123 



William  obtains  a  toleration  for  the  Waldenscs 12* 

Vices  inherent  in  the  nature  of  coalitions ''•'^ 

Siege  and  fall  of  Mons '•'' 

William  returns  to  England ^^* 

Trials  of  Preston  and  Asliton •"• 

Execution  of  Asliton ^.' * 

I'reston's  irresolution  and  confessions •"• 

Lenity  shown  to  the  consi)irator8 ^j^** 

Clarendon * 

Dartiuouth *"• 

Turner ^'^^ 

Penn 1.-" 

Death  of  George  Fox :  his  character *"• 

Interview  between  Penn  and  Sidney ''*'* 

Preston  pardoned ^"'^ 

Jov  of  ihe  Jacobites  at  the  fall  of  Mons 1'^^ 

The  vacant  sees  tilled '^' 

Tillotaon  Archbishop  of  Canterbury 1^^ 

Conduct  of  Sancroft ''^ 

Difference  between  Bancroft  and  K«.n ''-'^ 

Hatred  of  Sancroft  to  the  Estahlished  Church.     lie  [n-ovides  for  the 

episcopal  succession  among  the  nonjurors      ....  l^* 

The  new  Bishops 1'''' 

Sherlock,  Dean  of  Saint  Paul's l-"''' 

Treachery  of  some  of  William's  servants '^' 

Russell ^"^ 

Godolphin J*"'^ 

Marlborough ^^1 

William  returns  to  the  Continent ''•> 

The  campaign  of  1691  in  Flanders 1"^ 

The  war  in  Ireland '"9 

State  of  the  English  part  of  Ireland i^O 

State  of  the  part  of  Ireland  which  was  subject  to  James     .         .         .  3t<4 

Dissensions  among  the  Irish  at  Limerick 1*^1 

Return  of  Tyrconncl  to  Ireland If'-' 

Arrival  of  a  French  fleet  at  Limerick:  Saint  Ruth       ....  1'>1 

The  English  take  the  lield J^' 

Fall  of  Ballymore J9^ 

Siege  and  fall  of  Athlone 19-* 

Retreat  of  the  Irish  army 2W 

Saint  Ruth  determines  to  fight 301 

Battle  of  Aghrlm icM 

Fall  of  Galway '^'V 

Death  of  Tyrconnel 210 

Second  siege  of  Limerick 3(1 

Tbe  Irish  desirous  to  capitalate    . 318 

Vm       '  CONTBKTS   OF   VOLUME  VI. 


Negotiations  between  the  Iristt  cbiefa  and  the  besiegers    .        •        •  214 

Tbe  capitulation  of  Limerick 218 

Tiie  Irisii   troops   required   to   make  their   election   between  tlieir 

country  and  France 220 

Most  of  the  Irish  troops  volunteer  for  France 221 

Many  of  the  Irisli  who  had  volunteered  for  France  desert  .        .        .  223 

The  last  division  of  the  Irish  army  sails  from  Cork  for  France  .        .  224 

State  of  Ireland  after  the  war .  226 


Opening  of  the  Parliament 232 

Debates  on  the  salaries  and  fees  of  official  men 233 

Act  excluding  Papists  from  public  trust  in  Ireland      ....  236 

Debates  on  the  East  India  trade 239 

Debates  on  the  Bill  for  regulating  trials  in  case  of  high  treason         .  261 

Plot  formed  by  Marlborough  against  the  government  of  William       «  270 

Marlborough's  plot  disclosed  by  the  Jacobites 276 

Disgrace  of  Marlborough 277 

Various  reports  touching  the  cause  of  Marlborough's  disgrace  .        .  ib. 

Rupture  between  Mary  and  Anne 279 

Fuller's  plot 283 

Close  of  the  session:  bill  for  ascertaining  the  salaries  of  the  Judges 

rejected 292 

Ministerial  changes  in  England     ........  296 

Ministerifll  changes  in  Scotlaml     ........  898 


VOL;    VI. 

William  had  been,  during  the  whole  spring,  impatiently    c-^^^^'- 
expected  in  Ulster.    The  Protestant  settlements  along  the  coast  "Tssii^ 
of  that  province  had,  in  the  course  of  the  month  of  May,  been  wiiiiam 

r  '  •    '  land'*  al 

repeatedly  agitated  by  false  reports  of  his  arrival.  It  was  not,  carrick- 
iiowever,  till  the  afternoon  of  the  foiu-teenth  of  June  that  he  and  i>r'.- 
landed  at  Carrickfergus.  The  inhabitants  of  the  town  crowded  Beifa"st. 
the  main  street  and  greeted  him  with  loud  acclamations:  but 
they  caught  only  a  glimpse  of  him.  As  soon  as  he  was  on  dry 
ground  he  mounted  and  set  off  for  Belfast.  On  the  road  he  was 
met  by  Schomberg.  The  meeting  took  place  close  to  a  white 
house,  the  only  human  dwelling  then  visible,  in  the  space  of 
many  miles,  on  the  dreary  strand  of  the  estuarj-  of  the  Laggan. 
A  village  and  a  cotton  mill  now  rise  where  the  white  house  then 
stood  alone;  and  all  the  shore  is  adorned  by  a  gay  succession 
of  country  houses,  shrubberies  and  flower  beds.  Belfast  has 
become  one  of  the  greatest  and  most  floin-ishing  seats  of 
industr}'  in  the  British  isles.  A  busy  population  of  eighty  thou- 
sand souls  is  collected  there.  The  duties  annually  paid  at  the 
('ustom  House  exceed  the  duties  annually  paid  at  the  Custom 
Jlouse  of  liOndon  in  the  most  prosperous  years  of  the  reign  of 
Charles  the  Second.  Other  Irish  towns  may  present  more 
picturesque  forms  to  the  eye.  But  Belfast  is  the  only  large 
Irish  town  in  which  the  traveller  is  not  disgusted  by  the  loath- 
Macaulay,  Uislory.  17.  •'■ 



CHAP,  some  aspect  and  odour  of  long  lines  of  human  dens  far  inferior 
-in  comfort  and  cleanliness  to  the  dwellings  which,  in  happier 
countries,  are  provided  for  cattle.  No  other  large  Irish  town 
is  so  well  cleaned,  so  well  paved,  so  brilliantly  lighted.  The 
place  of  domes  and  spires  is  supplied  by  edifices,  less  pleasing 
to  the  taste ,  but  not  less  indicative  of  prosperity ,  huge 
factories,  towering  many  stories  above  the  chimneys  of  the 
houses,  and  resounding  with  the  roar  of  machinery.  The  Bel- 
fast which  William  entered  was  a  small  English  settlement  of 
about  three  hundred  houses,  commanded  by  a  stately  castle 
which  has  long  disappeared,  the  seat  of  the  noble  family  of 
Chichester.  In  this  mansion,  which  is  said  to  have  borne  some 
resemblance  to  the  palace  of  "WTiitehall,  and  which  was  cele- 
brated for  its  terraces  and  orchards  stretching  down  to  the  river 
side,  preparations  had  been  made  for  the  King's  reception.  He 
was  welcomed  at  the  Northern  Gate  by  the  magistrates  and 
burgesses  in  their  robes  of  office.  The  multitude  pressed  on 
his  carriage  with  shouts  of  "  God  save  the  Protestant  King." 
For  the  town  was  one  of  the  strongholds  of  the  Reformed 
Faith;  and,  when,  two  generations  later,  the  inhabitants 
were,  for  the  first  time,  numbered,  it  was  found  that  the  Roman 
Catholics  were  not  more  than  one  in  fifteen.* 

The  night  came:  but  the  Protestant  counties  were  awake 
and  up.  A  royal  salute  had  been  fired  from  the  castle  of  Belfast, 
It  had  been  echoed  and  reechoed  by  guns  which  Schomberg 
had  placed  at  wide  intervals  for  the  purpose  of  conveying 
signals  from  post  to  post.  Wherever  the  peal  was  heard,  it 
was  known  that  King  William  was  come.     Before  midnight  all 

*  London  Gazette,  June  19.  1690;  History  of  the  Wars  in  Ireland  by 
an  Officer  in  the  Royal  Army,  1690;  Villare  Hibernicum,  1690;  Story's 
Impartial  History,  1091;  Historical  Collections  relating  to  the  town  of 
Belfast,  1817.  This  work  contains  curious  extracts  from  MSS.  of  the  seven- 
teenth century.  In  the  British  Museum  is  a  map  of  Belfast  made  in  1685, 
so  exact  that  the  bouses  may  be  counted. 


the  heishts  of  Antrim  and  Down  were  blazing  with  bonfires,    chap. 


The  light  was  seen  across  the  bays  of  Carlingford  and  Dundalk,.r-j^^^— 
and  gave  notice  to  the  outposts  of  the  enemy  that  the  decisive 
hour  was  at  hand.     "Within  forty  eight  hours  after  William  had 
landed,  James  set  out  from  Dublin  for  the  Irish  camp,  whicn 
was  pitched  near  the  northern  frontier  of  Leinster.* 

In  Dublin  the  agitation  was  fearful.     None  could  doubt  that  siai<-  or 


the  decisive  crisis  was  approachmg;  and  the  agony  of  suspense 
stimulated  to  the  highest  point  the  passions  of  both  the  hostile 
castes.  The  majority  could  easily  detect,  in  the  looks  and 
tones  of  the  oppressed  minority,  signs  which  indicated  the  hope 
of  a  speedy  deliverance  and  of  a  terrible  revenge.  Simon  Luttrell, 
to  whom  the  care  of  the  capital  was  entrusted ,  hastened  to  take 
such  precautions  as  fear  and  hatred  dictated.  A  proclamation 
appeared,  enjoining  all  Protestants  to  remain  in  their  houses 
from  nightfall  to  dawn,  and  prohibiting  them,  on  pain  of  death, 
from  assembling  in  any  place  or  for  any  purpose  to  the  number 
of  more  than  five.  No  indulgence  was  granted  even  to  those 
divines  of  the  Established  Church  who  had  never  ceased  to  teach 
the  doctrine  of  nonresistance.  Doctor  William  King,  who  had, 
after  long  holding  out,  lately  begun  to  waver  in  his  political 
creed,  was  committed  to  custody.  There  was  no  gaol  large 
enough  to  hold  one  half  of  those  whom  the  governor  suspected 
of  evil  designs.  The  College  and  several  parish  churches  were 
used  as  prisons;  and  into  those  buildings  men  accused  of  no 
crime  but  their  religion  were  crowded  in  such  numbers  that  they 
could  hardly  breathe.** 

•  Lnuzun  to  Louvois,  June  {%•  The  messenger  who  bronght  the  news 
to  Lnuzun  had  heard  the  guns  and  seen  the  bonlircs.  History  of  the  Wars 
ill  Ireland  by  an  Officer  of  the  Royal  Army,  1690;  Life  of  James,  ii.  892., 
OriL-.  M(.m.;  iiurnct.ii.  47.  Burnet  is  strangely  mistaken  when  he  says  that 
William.had  been  six  days  in  Ireland  before  iiis  arrival  was  known  to  James. 
••  A  True  and  Perfect  Journal  of  tlie  Affairs  of  Ireland  by  a  Person  of 
Quality,  3690;  King,  iii.  18.  LuttrcU's  proclamation  will  be  found  in  King's 



CHAP,  The  two  rival  princes  meanwhile  were  busied  in  collecting 
— -~ — their  forces.  Loughbrickland  was  the  place  appointed  by 
William's  William  for  the  rendezvous  of  the  scattered  divisions  of  his 
arra'ngY-  aniiy.  While  his  troops  were  assembling,  he  exerted  himself 
ffients.  indefatigably  to  improve  their  discipline  and  to  provide  for  their 
subsistence.  He  had  brought  from  England  two  hundred  thou- 
sand pounds  in  money  and  a  great  quantity  of  ammunition  and 
provisions.  Pillaging  was  prohibited  under  severe  penalties. 
At  the  same  time  supplies  were  liberally  dispensed;  and  all  the 
paymasters  of  regiments  were  directed  to  send  in  their  accounts 
without  delay,  in  order  that  there  might  be  no  arrears.* 
Thomas  Coningsby,  Member  of  Parliament  for  Leominster, 
a  busy  and  unscrupulous  Whig,  accompanied  the  King,  and 
acted  as  Paymaster  General.  It  deserves  to  be  mentioned  that 
William,  at  this  time,  authorised  the  Collector  of  Customs  at 
Belfast  to  pay  every  year  twelve  hundred  pounds  into  tht  hands 
of  some  of  the  principal  dissenting  ministers  of  Down  and 
Antrim,  who  were  to  be  trustees  for  their  brethren.  Tlie  King 
declared  that  he  bestowed  this  sum  on  the  nonconformist 
divines,  partly  as  a  reward  for  their  eminent  loyalty  to  him,  and 
partly  as  a  compensation  for  their  recent  losses.  Such  was  the 
origin  of  that  donation  which  is  still  annually  bestowed  by  the 
government  on  the  Presbjlerian  clergy  of  Ulster.** 

William  was  all  himself  again.  His  spirits,  depressed  by 
eighteen  months  passed  in  dull  state,  amidst  factions  and 
intrigues  which  he  but  half  understood,  rose  high  as  soon  as  he 
was  surrounded  by  tents  and  standards.***  It  was  strange  to  see 
how  rapidly  this  man,  so  unpopular  at  Westminster,  obtained 
a  complete  mastery  over  the  hearts  of  his  brethren  in  arms. 

*  VillareHiberniciim,  1690. 
-     ••  The  order  addressed  to  the  Collector  of  Customs  will  be  found  in 
Dr.  Reid's  History  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  in  Ireland. 

•••  "La  gayet^  peinte  sur  son  visage,"  says  Dumont,  who  saw  li im  at 
Belfast,  "nous  fit  tout  esp^rcr  pour  les  heureux  guccl^s  de  la  campagnc." 

■WTLLIAM   Ajru   MABT.  O 

They  observed  with  delicht  tliat,  infimi  as  he  was,  he  took  his    chap. 


shaie  of  ever)'  hardship  which  they  underwent;  that  he  thought  — j^^' 
more  of  their  comfort  than  of  his  own ;  that  he  sharply  repri- 
manded some  officers,  who  were  so  anxious  to  procure  luxuries 
for  his  table  as  to  forget  the  wants  of  the  common  soldiers; 
that  he  never  once,  from  the  day  on  which  he  took  the  field, 
lodged  in  a  house,  but,  even  in  the  neighbourhood  of  cities 
and  palaces,  slept  in  his  small  moveable  hut  of  wood;  that  no 
solicitations  could  induce  him ,  on  a  hot  day  and  in  a  high  wind, 
to  move  out  of  the  choking  cloud  of  dust,  which  overhung  the 
line  of  march,  and  which  severely  tried  lungs  less  delicate  than 
liis.  Every  man  under  his  command  became  familiar  with  his 
looks  and  M'ith  his  voice;  for  there  was  not  a  regiment  which 
he  did  not  inspect  with  minute  attention.  His  pleasant  looks 
and  sayings  were  long  remembered.  One  brave  soldier  has 
recorded  in  his  journal  the  kind  and  courteous  manner  in  which 
a  basket  of  the  first  cherries  of  the  year  was  accepted  from  him 
by  the  King,  and  the  sprightliness  with  which  His  Majesty 
conversed  at  supper  with  those  who  stood  round  the  table.* 

On  the  twenty  fourth  of  June ,  the  tenth  day  after  William's  wiiiism 
landing,  he  marched  southward  from  Loughbrickland  with  all  south-" 
his  forces.   He  was  fully  determined  to  take  the  first  opportunity  ""*** 
of  fighting.     Schomberg  and  some  other  officers  recommended 
caution  and  delay.     But  the  King  answered  that  he  had  not 
come  to  Ireland  to  let  the  grass  grow  under  his  feet.     The  event 
seems  to  prove  that  he  judged  rightly  as  a  general.     That  he 
judged  rightly  as  a  statesman  cannot  be  doubted.     He  knew 
that  the  English  nation  was  discontented  with  the  way  in  which 
the  war  had  hitherto  been  conducted;  that  nothing  but  rapid 
and  splendid  success  could  revive  the  enthusiasm  of  his  friends 
and  quell  the  spirit  of  his  enemies;   and  that  a  defeat  could 

•  Story's  Impartial  Account;  MS.  Journul  of  Colonel  Bellingbam;   The 
Boyal  Diury. 


CHAP,  scarcely  be  more  injurious  to  his  fame  and  to  his  interests  than 
-,g3^^    a  languid  and  indecisive  campaign. 

The  country  through  which  he  advanced  had,  during 
eighteen  months,  been  fearfully  wasted  both  by  soldiers  and 
by  Rapparees.  The  cattle  had  been  slaughtered :  the  plantations 
had  been  cut  down:  the  fences  and  houses  were  in  ruins.  Not 
a  human  being  was  to  be  found  near  the  road,  except  a  few 
naked  and  meagre  wretches  who  had  no  food  but  the  husks  of 
oats,  and  who  were  seen  picking  those  husks,  like  chickens, 
from  amidst  dust  and  cinders.*  Yet,  even  under  such  dis- 
advantages, the  natural  fertility  of  the  country ,  the  rich  green 
of  the  earth,  the  bays  and  rivers  so  admirably  fitted  for  trade, 
could  not  but  strike  the  King's  observant  eye.  Perhaps  he 
thought  how  different  an  aspect  that  unhappy  region  would  have 
presented  if  rt  had  been  blessed  with  such  a  government  and 
such  a  religion  as  had  made  his  native  Holland  the  wonder  of 
the  world ;  how  endless  a  succession  of  pleasure  houses ,  tulip 
gardens  and  dairy  farms  would  have  lined  the  road  fromLisburn 
to  Belfast;  how  many  hundreds  of  barges  would  have  been 
constantly  passing  up  and  down  the  Laggan;  what  a  forest  of 
masts  would  have  bristled  in  the  desolate  port  of  Newry ;  and 
what  vast  warehouses  and  stately  mansions  would  have  covered 
the  space  occupied  by  the  noisome  alleys  of  Dundalk.  "The 
country,"  he  was  heard  to  say,  "is  worth  fighting  for." 
The  Irish  The  Original  intention  of  James  seems  to  have  been  to  try 
tVeats."^^"  the  chances  of  a  pitched  field  on  the  border  between  Leinster 
and  Ulster.  But  this  design  was  abandoned,  in  consequence, 
apparently,  of  the  representations  of  Lauzun,  who,  though 
very  little  disposed  and  very  little  qualified  to  conduct  a  cam- 
paign on  the  Fabian  system,  had  the  admonitions  of  Louvois 
still  in  his  ears.**   James,  though  resolved  not  to  give  up  Dublin 

*  Story's  Impartial  Account. 
•*  Lauzun  to  Ijonvols,    ^'  ^  '   1690;  Life  of  James.  li.  393,,  Orig.Memi 




without  a  battle,  consented  to  retreat  till  he  should  reach  some  nwp. 
spot  where  he  might  have  the  vantage  of  ground.  When  there-  - 
fore  William's  advanced  guard  reached  Dundalk,  nothing  was 
to  be  seen  of  the  Irish  army,  except  a  great  cloud  of  dust  which 
was  slowly  rolling  southwards  towards  Ardee.  The  English 
halted  one  night  near  the  ground  on  which  Schomberg's  camp 
had  been  pitched  in  the  preceding  year;  and  many  sad  recol- 
lections were  awakened  by  the  sight  of  that  dreary  marsh,  the 
sepulchre  of  thousands  of  brave  men.* 

Still  William  continued  to  push  forward,  and  still  the  Irish 
receded  before  him,  till,  on  the  morning  of  Monday  the  thirtieth 
of  June,  his  army,  marching  in  three  columns,  reached  the 
summit  of  a  rising  ground  near  the  southern  frontier  of  the 
county  of  Louth.  Beneath  lay  a  valley,  now  so  rich  and  so 
cheerful  that  the  Englishman  who  gazes  on  it  may  imagine  him- 
self to  be  in  one  of  the  most  highly  favoured  parts  of  his  own 
highly  favoured  country.  Fields  of  wheat,  woodlands,  meadows 
bright  with  daisies  and  clover,  slope  gently  down  to  the  edge  of 
the  Boyne.  That  bright  and  tranquil  stream,  the  boundarj' of 
Louth  and  Meath,  having  flowed  many  miles  between  verdant 
banks  crowned  by  modern  palaces,  and  by  the  ruined  keeps  of 
old  Norman  barons  of  the  pale,  is  here  about  to  mingle  with 
the  sea.  Five  miles  to  the  west  of  the  place  from  which  William 
looked  down  on  the  river,  now  stands,  on  a  verdant  bank,  amidst 
noble  woods,  Slane  Castle,  the  mansion  of  the  Marquess  of 
Conyngham.  Two  miles  to  the  east,  a  cloud  of  smoke  from  fac- 
tories and  steam  vessels  overhangs  the  busy  town  and  port  of 
Drogheda.  On  the  Meath  side  of  the  BojTie,  the  ground,  still 
all  corn,  grass ,  flowers,  and  foliage,  rises  with  a  gentle  swell  to 
an  eminence  surmounted  by  a  conspicuous  tuft  of  ash  trees  which 
overshades  the  ruined  church  and  desolate  graveyard  of  Donore.** 

•  Story'8  Impartial  Account;  Dumont  MS. 
**  Macb  interesting  information  respecting  the  Beld  oT  battle  and  the 


CHAP.    In  the  seventeenth  century  the  landscape  presented  a  very 



different  aspect.  The  traces  of  art  and  industry  were  few. 
Scarcely  a  vessel  was  on  the  river  except  those  rude  coracles  of 
wickerwork  covered  with  the  skins  of  horses,  in  which  the 
Celtic  peasantry  fished  for  trout  and  salmon.  Drogheda,  now 
peopled  by  twenty  thousand  industrious  inhabitants,  was  a  small 
knot  of  narrow,  crooked  and  filthy  lanes,  encircled  by  a  ditch 
and  a  mound.  The  houses  were  built  of  wood  with  high  gables 
and  projecting  upper  stories.  Without  the  walls  of  the  town, 
scarcely  a  dwelling  was  to  be  seen  except  at  a  place  called  Old- 
bridge.  At  Oldbridge  the  river  was  fordable;  and  on  the 
south  of  the  ford  were  a  few  mud  cabins,  and  a  single  house 
built  of  more  solid  materials. 
The  Irish  When  William  caught  sight  of  the  valley  of  the  Eoyne,  he 
si.ind  ai  could  uot  suppress  an  exclamation  and  a  gesture  of  delight.  He 
had  been  apprehensive  that  the  enemy  would  avoid  a  decisive 
action,  and  would  protract  the  war  till  the  autumnal  rains 
should  return  with  pestilence  in  their  train.  He  was  now  at 
ease.  It  was  plain  that  the  contest  would  be  sharp  and  short. 
The  pavilion  of  James  was  pitched  on  the  eminence  of  Donore. 
The  flags  of  the  House  of  Stuart  and  of  the  House  of  Bourbon 
waved  together  in  defiance  on  the  walls  of  Drogheda.  All  the 
southern  bank  of  the  river  was  lined  by  the  camp  and  batteries 
of  the  hostile  army.  Thousands  of  armed  men  were  moving 
about  among  the  tents;  and  every  one,  horse  soldier  or  foot 
soldier,  French  or  Irish,  had  a  white  badge  in  his  hat.  That 
colour  had  been  chosen  in  compliment  to  the  House  of  Bourbon. 
"I  am  glad  to  see  you,  gentlemen,"  said  the  King,  as  his  keen 
eye  surveyed  the  Irish  lines.  "If  you  escape  me  now,  the  fault 
will  be  mine."* 

surrounding  country  will  be  found  in  Mr.  Wilde's  pleasing  volume  entitled 
"The  Beauties  of  the  Boyne  and  Blackwatcr." 

•  Memorandum  in   the  handwriting  of  Alexander,   Earl  of  Marchmont. 
He  derived  his  information  from  Lord  Selkirk,  who  was  ia  William's  army. 


Each  of  the  contending  princes  had  some  artvantages  over    chap. 
his  rival.     James,  standing  on  the  defensive,  behind  entrencli — J7uo7~ 
ments,  with  a  river  before  him,  had  the  stronger  position :*Thr  army 
but  his  troops  were  inferior  both  in  number  and  in  quality  to  "    * 
those  which  were  opposed  to  him.     He  probably  had  thirty 
thousand  men.     About  a  third  part  of  this  force  consisted  of  ex- 
cellent French  infantry  and  excellent  Irish  cavalry,     liut  the 
rest  of  his  army  was  the  scoff  of  all  Europe.     The  Irish  dra- 
goons were  bad ;  the  Irish  infantry  worse.    It  was  said  that  their 
ordinary  way  of  fighting  was  to  discharge  their  pieces  once,  and 
then  to  run  away  bawling  "Quarter"  and  "Murder."     Their 
inefficiency  was,  in  that  age,  commonly  imputed,  both  by  their 
enemies  and  by  their  allies,  to  natural  poltroonery.     How  little 
ground  there  was  for  such  an  imputation  has  since  been  signally 
proved  by  many  heroic  achievements  in  eveiy  part  of  the  globe. 
It  ought,  indeed,  even  in  the  seventeenth  century ,  to  have  oc- 
curred to  reasonable  men,  that  a  race  which  furnished  some  of 
the  best  horse  soldiers  in  the  world  would  certainly,  with  judi- 
cious training,  furnish  good  foot  soldiers.     But  the  Irish  foot 
soldiers  had  not  merely  not  been  well  trained:  they  had  been 
elaborately  ill  trained.     The  greatest  of  our  generals  repeatedly 
and  emphatically  declared  that  even  the  admirable  army  which 
fought  its  way,  under  his  command,  from  Torres  Vedras  to 
Toulouse,  would,  if  he  had  suffered  it  to  contract  habits  of 
pillage,  have  become,  in  a  few  weeks,  unfit  for  all  military 

•  James  says  (Mfe,  ii.  393.  Orig.  Mem.)  that  tlie  country  afforded  no 
better  position.  King,  in  a  tlianlvst;ivinjj  sermon  wtiicli  he  preached  at 
Dublin  after  the  close  of  tlic  campaign,  told  his  hearers  that  "the  ad- 
vantage of  tlie  post  of  tlie  Irish  was,  by  all  intelligent  men,  reckoned 
above  tliree  to  one."  See  Kinpr's  ThanksKiving  Sermon,  preached  on 
Nov.  16.  1G90,  before  Lords  Justices.  This  is,  no  doubt,  an  absurd  ex- 
aggeration. But  M.  de  la  Hoguette,  one  of  the  principal  French  officers 
who  was  present  at  the  battle  of  the  Boyne,  informed  Louvois  that  the  Irish 
army  occupied  a  good  defensive   position.     Letter   of  La  Hoguette   from 

Limerick,  ^—^  1690, 

Aug.  10, 


CHAP,  purposes.     \VTiat  then  was  likely  to  be  the  character  of  troops 


who,  from  the  day  on  which  they  enlisted,  were  not  merely  per- 
mitted, but  invited,  to  supply  the  deficiencies  of  pay  by  maraud- 
ing? They  were,  as  might  have  been  expected,  a  mere  mob, 
furious  indeed  and  clamorous  in  their  zeal  for  the  cause  which 
they  had  espoused,  but  incapable  of  opposing  a  stedfast  resist- 
ance to  a  well  ordered  force.  In  truth,  all  that  the  discipline, 
if  it  is  to  be  so  called ,  of  James's  army  had  done  for  the  Celtic 
kerne  had  been  to  debase  and  enei-vate  him.  After  eighteen 
months  of  nominal  soldiership,  he  was  positively  farther  from 
being  a  soldier  than  on  the  day  on  which  he  quitted  his  hovel 
for  the  camp, 
riic  army  William  had  under  his  command  near  thirty  six  thousand 
nam.'  '  men,  born  in  many  lands,  and  speaking  many  tongues.  Scarcely 
one  Protestant  Church,  scarcely  one  Protestant  nation,  was  un- 
represented in  the  army  which  a  strange  series  of  events  had 
brought  to  fight  for  the  Protestant  religion  in  the  remotest 
island  of  the  west.  About  half  the  troops  were  natives  of  Eng- 
land. Ormond  was  there  with  the  Life  Guards,  and  Oxford 
with  the  Blues.  Sir  John  Lanier,  an  officer  who  had  acquired 
military  experience  on  the  Continent,  and  whose  prudence  was 
held  in  high  esteem ,  v/as  at  the  head  of  the  Queen's  regiment 
of  horse ,  now  the  First  Dragoon  Guards.  There  were  Beau- 
mont's foot,  who  had,  in  defiance  of  the  mandate  of  James,  re- 
fused to  admit  Irish  papists  among  them,  and  Hastings's  foot, 
who  had,  on  the  disastrous  day  of  Killiecrankie,  maintained 
the  militaiy  reputation  of  the  Saxon  race.  There  were  the  two 
Tangier  battalions,  hitherto  known  only  by  deeds  of  violence 
and  rapine ,  but  destined  to  begin  on  the  following  morning  a 
long  career  of  glory.  The  Scotch  Guards  marched  under  the 
command  of  their  countryman  James  Douglas.  Two  fine  British 
regiments,  which  had  been  in  the  service  of  the  States  General, 
and  had  often  looked  death  in  the  face  under  William's  leading, 


followed  him  in  this  campaign,  not  only  as  their  general,  hut  chap. 
as  their  native  King.  They  now  rank  as  the  fifth  and  sixth  of  — ~- 
the  line.  The  former  was  led  by  an  officer  who  had  no  skill  in 
the  higher  parts  of  military  science,  but  whom  the  whole  army 
allowed  to  he  the  bravest  of  all  the  brave,  John  Cutts.  Con- 
spicuous among  the  Dutch  troops  were  Portland's  and  Ginkell's 
Horse,  and  Solmes's  Blue  regiment,  consisting  of  two  thousand 
of  the  finest  infantrj'  in  Europe.  Germany  had  sent  to  the  field 
some  warriors,  sprung  from  her  noblest  houses.  Prince  George 
of  Hesse  Darmstadt,  a  gallant  youth  who  was  serving  his  ap- 
prenticeship in  the  military  art,  rode  near  the  King.  A  strong 
brigade  of  Danish  mercenaries  was  commanded  by  Duke 
Charles  Frederic  of  Wirtemberg,  a  near  kinsman  of  the  head  of 
his  illustrious  family.  It  was  reported  that  of  all  the  soldiers  of 
"William  these  were  most  dreaded  by  the  Irish.  For  centuries 
of  Saxon  domination  had  not  effaced  the  recollection  of  the 
violence  and  cruelty  of  the  Scandinavian  sea  kings;  and  an  an- 
cient prophecy  that  the  Danes  would  one  day  destroy  the 
children  of  the  soil  was  still  repeated  with  superstitious  horror.* 
Among  the  foreign  auxiliaries  were  a  Brandenburg  regiment 
and  a  Finland  regiment.  But  in  that  great  array ,  so  variously 
composed,  were  two  bodies  of  men  animated  by  a  spirit  pecu- 
liarly fierce  and  implacable,  the  Huguenots  of  France  thirsting 
for  the  blood  of  the  French,  and  the  Englishry  of  Ireland  im- 
patient to  trauiple  down  the  Irish.  The  ranks  of  the  refugees 
had  been  effectually  purged  of  spies  and  traitors,  and  were  made 
up  of  men  such  as  had  contended  in  the  preceding  century 
against  the  power  of  the  House  of  Valois  and  the  genius  of  the 
House  of  Lorraine.  All  the  boldest  spirits  of  the  unconquerable 
colony  had  repaired  to  "William's  camp.  Mitchelburne  was 
there  with  the  stubborn  defenders  of  Londonderry,  and  "Wolseley  , 

with  the  warriors  who  had  raised  the  unanimous  shout  of 
•  Narcissus  Luttrell'B  Diary,  March,  1690. 


CHAP.  "Advance"  on  the  day  of  Ne\\'ton  Butler.     Sir  Albert  Conyng- 



ham,  the  ancestor  of  the  noble  family  whose  seat  now  over- 
looks the  Boyne,  had  brought  from  the  neighbourhood  of 
Lough  Erne  a  gallant  regiment  of  dragoons  which  still  glories 
in  the  name  of  Enniskillen,  and  which  has  proved  on  the  shores 
of  the  Euxine  that  it  has  not  degenerated  since  the  day  of  the 
Walker,  Walker,  notwithstanding  his  advanced  age  and  his  peaceful 
«iiop  of  profession,  accompanied  the  men  of  Londonderry,  and  tried  to 
accompa-  animate  their  zeal  by  exhortation  and  by  example.  He  was  now 
uriny.  a  great  prelate.  Ezekiel  Hopkins  had  taken  refuge  fi-om  Popish 
persecutors  and  Presbyterian  rebels  in  the  city  of  London,  had 
brought  himself  to  swear  allegiance  to  the  government,  had 
obtained  a  cure,  and  had  died  in  the  performance  of  the  humble 
duties  of  a  parish  priest.**  William,  on  his  march  through 
Louth,  learned  that  the  rich  see  of  Derry  was  at  his  disposal. 
He  instantly  made  choice  of  Walker  to  be  the  new  Bishop.  The 
brave  old  man ,  during  the  few  hours  of  life  which  remained  to 
him,  was  overwhelmed  with  salutations  and  congratulations. 
Unhappily  he  had,  during  the  siege  in  which  he  had  so  highly 
distinguished  himself,  contracted  a  passion  for  war;  and  he 
easily  persuaded  himself  that,  in  indulging  this  passion,  he 
was  discharging  a  duty  to  his  country  and  his  religion.  He 
ought  to  have  remembered  that  the  peculiar  circumstances 
which  had  justified  him  in  becoming  a  combatant  had  ceased  to 
exist,  and  that,  in  a  disciplined  army  led  by  generals  of  long 
experience  and  great  fame ,  a  fighting  divine  was  likely  to  give 
less  help  than  scandal.  The  Bishop  elect  was  determined  to  be 
wherever  danger  was;  and  the  way  in  which  he  exposed  himself 

"  See  the  Historical  records  of  the  Regiments  of  the  British  army,  and 
Story's  list  of  the  army  of  William  as  it  passed  in  review  at  Finglass,  a 
week  after  the  battle. 

*•  See  his  Funeral  Sermon  preached  at  the  church  of  Saint  Mary  Alder- 
mary  on  the  24th  of  June  ItiSO. 


excited  tlie  extreme  disgust  of  his  royal  patron,   who  hated  a    ciup. 
meddler  almost  as  much  as  a  coward.     A  soldier  who  ran  away    ^.^^' 
from  a  battle  and  a  gownsman  who  pushed  hijnself  into  a  battle 
were  the  two  objects  which  most  strongly  excited  "William's 

It  was  still  early  in  the  day.     The  King  rode  slowly  along  wiinim 
the  northern  bank  of  the  river,  and  closely  examined  the  posi-  [rcs^Oic' 
tion  of  the  Irish,  from  whom  he  was  sometimes  separated  by  an  liVioV'"" 
interval  of  little  more  than  two  hundred  feet.     He  was  accom- 
panied   by    Schonibcrg,    Oi-mond,    Sidney,    Solmes,    Prince 
George  of  Hesse,  Coningsby,  and  others.     "Their  army  is  but 
small;"  said  one  of  the  Dutch  officers.     Indeed  it  did  not  ap- 
pear to  consist  of  more  than  sixteen  thousand  men.     But  it  was 
well  known,  from  the  reports  brought  liy  deserters,  that  many 
regiments  were  concealed  from  view  by  the  undulations  of  the 
ground.      "They   may   be    stronger    than    they   look,"    said 
M'illiam;  "but,  weak  or  strong,  I  will  soon  know  all  about 

At  length  he  alighted  at  a  spot  nearly  opposite  to  Oldbridge, 
sate  down  on  the  turf  to  rest  himself,  and  called  for  breakfast. 
The  sumpter  horses  were  imloadcd:  the  canteens  were  opened ; 
and  a  tablecloth  was  spread  on  the  grass.  The  place  is  marked 
by  an  obelisk,  built  while  many  veterans  who  could  well  re- 
member the  events  of  that  day  were  still  living. 

While  William  was  at  his  repast,  a  gi'oup  of  horsemen  ap-  wMiiam 
peared  close  to  the  water  on  the  opposite  shore.     Among  them  cd. 
his  attendants  could  discern  some   who  had  once  been  con- 
spicuous at  re^^ews  in  Hyde  Park  and  at  balls  in  the  gallery  of 
Whitehall,  the  youthful  Berwick,  the  small,  fairhaired  I.auzun, 
Tyrconnei,  once  admired  by  maids  of  honour  as  the  model  of 

•  Story's   Irapnrtial  History;   History   of  tlie  Wars   in   Ireland   by   an 

June  3(1. 

Oficpf  c'  the  Royal  Army;  Hop  to  the  States  General,   j-j — rrr    1690. 



CHAP,  manly  vigour  and  beauty,  but  now  bent  down  by  years  and 
-crippled  by  gout,  and,  overtopping  all,  the  stately  head  of 
Sarsfield.  ,    ' 

The  chiefs  of  the  Irish  army  soon  discovered  that  the  person 
who,  surrounded  by  a  splendid  circle ,  was  breakfasting  on  the 
opposite  bank,  was  the  Prince  of  Orange.  They  sent  for  artil- 
lery. Two  field  pieces,  screened  from  view  by  a  troop  of 
cavalry,  were  brought  down  almost  to  the  brink  of  the  river, 
and  placed  behind  a  hedg'e.  William,  who  had  just  risen  from 
his  meal,  and  was  again  in  the  saddle,  was  the  mark  of  both 
guns.  The  first  shot  struck  one  of  the  holsters  of  Prince  George 
of  Hesse,  and  brought  his  horse  to  the  ground.  "Ah!"  cried 
the  King;  "the  poor  Prince  is  killed."  As  the  words  passed  his 
lips,  he  was  himself  hit  by  a  second  ball,  a  sixpounder.  It 
merely  tore  his  coat,  grazed  his  shoulder,  and  di-ew  two  or 
three  ounces  of  blood.  Both  armies  saw  that  the  shot  had 
taken  effect;  for  the  King  sank  down  for  a  moment  on  his 
horse's  neck.  A  yell  of  exultation  rose  from  the  Irish  camp. 
The  English  and  their  allies  were  in  dismay.  Solmes  flung  him- 
self prostrate  on  the  earth,  and  burst  into  tears.  But  William's 
deportment  soon  reassured  his  friends.  "There  is  no  harm 
done,"  he  said:  "but  the  bullet  came  quite  near  enough." 
Coningsby  put  his  handkerchief  to  the  wound:  a  surgeon  was 
sent  for:  a  plaster  was  applied;  and  the  King,  as  soon  as  the 
dressing  was  finished,  rode  round  all  the  posts  of  his  arniy 
amidst  loud  acclamations.  Such  was  the  energy  of  his  spirit 
that,  in  spite  of  his  feeble  health,  in  spite  of  his  recent  hurt,  he 
was  that  day  nineteen  hours  on  horseback.* 

A  cannonade  was  kept  up  on  both  .sides  till  the  evening. 
William  observed  with  especial  attention  the  efi'ect  produced 

*  London  Gazette,  July  7.  1690;  Story's  Impartial  History ;  History  of 
the  Wars  in  Ireland  by  an  Ofticer  of  the  Royal  Army;  Narcissus  Luttreirs 
Diary;  Lord  Marchmont's  Memorandum;  Bornet,  ii  60.  and  Thanksgiving 
Sermon;  Dumont  MS. 


by  the  Irish  shots  on  the  English  regiments  which  had  never  cnxp. 
been  in  action,  and  declared  himself  satisfied  with  the  result.  -,gg^"  • 
"All  is  right,"  he  said;  "they  stand  fire  well."  Long  after 
sunset  he  made  a  final  inspection  of  his  forces  by  torchlight, 
and  gave  orders  that  every  thing  should  be  ready  for  forcing  a 
passage  across  the  river  on  the  morrow.  Every  soldier  was  to 
put  a  green  bough  in  his  hat.  The  baggage  and  great 
coats  were  to  be  left  under  a  guard.  The  word  was  West- 

The  King's  resolution  to  attack  the  Irish  was  not  approved 
by  all  his  lieutenants.  Schomberg,  in  particular,  pronounced 
the  experiment  too  hazardous,  and,  when  his  opinion  was  over- 
ruled, retired  to  his  tent  in  no  very  good  humour.  Mlien  the 
order  of  battle  was  delivered  to  him,  he  muttered  that  he  had 
been  more  used  to  give  such  orders  than  to  receive  them.  For 
this  little  fit  of  suUenness,  very  pardonable  in  a  general  who 
had  won  great  victories  when  his  master  was  still  a  child, 
the  brave  veteran  made,  on  the  following  morning,  a  noble 

The  first  of  July  dawned,  a  day  which  has  never  since  re-  Bsttie  of 
turned  without  exciting  strong  emotions  of  very  different  kinds 
in  the  two  populations  which  divide  Ireland.  The  sun  rose 
bright  and  cloudless.  Soon  after  four  both  armies  were  in 
motion.  William  ordered  his  right  wing,  under  the  command 
ofMeinhart  Schomberg,  one  of  the  Duke's  sons,  to  march  to 
the  bridge  of  Siane,  some  miles  up  the  river,  to  cross  there, 
and  to  turn  the  left  flank  of  the  Irish  army.  Meinhart  Schom- 
berg was  assisted  by  Portland  and  Douglas.  James,  antici- 
pating some  such  design,  had  already  sent  to  the  bridge  a 
regiment  of  dragoons,  commanded  by  Sir  Neil  O'Neii.  O'Neil 
behaved  himself  like  a  brave  gentleman;  but  he  soon  received 
a  mortal  wound:  his  men  fled;  and  the  English  right  wing 
passed  the  river. 



CHAP,  This  move  made  Lauzun  uneasy.  What  if  the  English  right 
wing  should  get  into  the  rear  of  the  army  of  James?  About 
four  miles  south  of  the  BojTie  was  a  place  called  Duleek,  where 
the  road  to  Dublin  was  so  narrow,  that  two  cars  could  not  pass 
each  other,  and  where  on  both  sides  of  the  road  lay  a  morass 
which  afforded  no  firm  footing.  If  Meinhart  Schomberg  should 
occupy  this  spot,  it  would  be  impossible  for  the  Irish  to  retreat. 
They  must  either  conquer,  or  be  cut  off  to  a  man.  Disturbed 
by  this  apprehension,  the  French  general  marched  with  his 
countiymen  and  with  Sarsfield's  horse  in  the  direction  of  Slane 
Bridge.  Thus  the  fords  near  Oldbridge  were  left  to  be  de- 
fended by  the  Irish  alone. 

It  was  now  near  ten  o'clock.  William  put  himself  at  the 
head  of  his  left  wing,  which  was  composed  exclusively  of 
cavalry,  and  prepared  to  pass  the  river  not  far  above  Drogheda. 
The  centre  of  his  army ,  which  consisted  almost  exclusively  of 
foot,  was  entrusted  to  the  command  of  Schomberg,  and  was 
marshalled  opposite  to  Oldbridge.  At  Oldbridge  the  whole 
Irish  infantry  had  been  collected.  The  Meath  bank  bristled 
with  pikes  and  bayonets.  A  fortification  had  been  made  by 
French  engineers  out  of  the  hedges  and  buildings;  and  a 
breastwork  had  been  thrown  up  close  to  the  water  side.*  Tyr- 
connel  was  there ;  and  under  him  were  Richard  Hamilton  and 

Schomberg  gave  the  word.  Solmes's  Blues  were  the  first  to 
move.  They  marched  gallantly,  with  drums  beating,  to  the 
brink  of  the  Boyne.  Then  the  drums  stopped;  and  the  men, 
ten  abreast,  descended  into  the  water.  Next  plunged  London- 
derry and  Enniskillen.  A  little  to  the  left  of  Londonderry  and 
Enniskillen ,  Caillemot  crossed ,  at  the  head  of  a  long  column 
of  French  refugees.     A  little  to  the  left  of  Caillemot  and  his  re- 

*  La  Iloguette  to  Louvois,    --^-^ — '  1690. 

Aug.  10. 


fugees.the  main  body  of  the  English  infantry  struggled  through    chap 

the  river,  up  to  their  armpits  in  water.     Still  further  down  the  - 
stream  the  Danes  found  another  ford.     In  a  few  minutes  the 
Boyne,  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  was  alive  with  muskets  and 
green  boughs. 

It  was  not  till  the  assailants  had  reached  the  middle  of  the 
channel  that  they  became  aware  of  the  v.hole  difficulty  and 
danger  of  the  service  in  -which  they  were  engaged.  They  had  as 
yet  seen  little  more  than  half  the  hostile  army.  Now  whole  re- 
giments of  foot  and  horse  seemed  to  start  out  of  the  earth.  A 
■wild  shout  of  defiance  rose  from  the  whole  shore:  during  one 
moment  the  event  seemed  doubtful:  but  the  Protestants  pressed 
resolutely  forward ;  and  in  another  moment  the  whole  Irish  line 
gave  way.  TjTconnel  looked  on  in  helpless  despair.  He  did 
not  want  personal  courage :  but  his  military  skill  was  so  small 
that  he  hardly  ever  reviewed  his  regiment  in  the  Phcenix  Park 
without  committing  some  blunder;  and  to  rally  the  ranks  which 
were  breaking  all  round  him  was  no  task  for  a  general  who  had 
survived  the  energy  of  his  body  and  of  his  mind,  and  yet  had 
still  the  rudiments  of  his  profes.tiion  to  learn.  Several  of  his 
best  officers  fell  while  vainly  endeavouring  to  prevail  on  their 
soldiers  to  look  the  Dutch  Blues  in  the  face.  Richard  Hamilton 
ordered  a  body  of  foot  to  fall  on  the  French  refugees,  who  were 
still  deep  in  water.  He  led  the  way,  and,  accompanied  by 
several  courageous  gentlemen,  advanced,  sword  in  hand,  into 
the  river.  But  neither  his  commands  nor  his  example  could 
infuse  courage  into  that  mob  of  cowstealers.  He  was  left  almost 
alone,  and  retired  from  the  bank  in  despair.  Further  down  the 
river  Antrim's  dinsion  ran  like  sheep  at  the  approach  of  the 
English  column.  "Whole  regiments  flung  away  arms,  colours 
and  cloaks,  and  scampered  ofif  to  the  hills  without  striking  a 
blow  or  firing  a  shot.  * 

*  That  I  have  done  no  injastice  to  the  Irish  infantry  will  appear  from 
ilacahtay,  Hiilory.  VI,  2 




J  690 


CHAP.  It  required  many  years  and  many  heroic  exploits  to  take 
away  the  reproach  which  that  ignominious  rout  left  on  the  Irish 
name.  Yet,  even  before  the  day  closed,  it  was  abundantly 
proved  that  the  reproach  was  unjust.  Richard  Hamilton  put 
himself  at  the  head  of  the  cavalry,  and,  under  his  command, 
they  made  a  gallant,  though  an  unsuccessful  attempt  to  retrieve 
the  day.  They  maintained  a  desperate  fight  in  the  bed  of  the 
river  with  Solmes's  Blues.  They  drove  the  Danish  brigade 
back  into  the  stream.  They  fell  impetuously  on  the  Huguenot 
regiments,  which,  not  being  provided  with  pikes,  then  ordi- 
narily used  by  foot  to  repel  horse,  began  to  give  ground. 
Caillemot,   while  encouraging  his  fellow  exiles,   received  a 

the  accounts  which  the  French  officers  who  were  at  the  Boyne  sent  to  their 
government  and  their  families.  LaHoguette,  writing  hastily  to  Louvois 
on  the -Ath  of  July,  says:  "  Je  vous  diray  seulement,  Monseigneur,  que 
nous  n'avons  pas  estd  battus,  mais  que  les  ennemys  ont  chassis  dovant  eux 
les  trouppes  Irlandoises  comme  des  moutons,  sans  avoir  essay^  un  seul 
coup  de  mousquet." 

Writing  some  weeks  later  more  fully  from  Limerick,  he  says,  "J'en 
meurs  de  honte."  He  admits  that  it  would  have  been  no  easy  matter  to 
win  the  battle,  at  best.  "Mais  il  est  vray  anssi,"  he  adds,  "que  les 
Irlandois  ne  fircnt  pas  la  moindre  resistance,  et  pliferent  sans  tirer  un  seul 
coup."  Zurlauben,  Colonel  of  one  of  the  finest  regiments  in  the  French 
service,  wrote  to  the  same  effect,  but  did  justice  to  the  courage  of  the  Irish 
horse,  whom  La  Hoguette  does  not  mention. 

There  is  at  the  French  War  Office  a  letter  hastily  scrawled  by  Boisse- 
leau,  Lauzun's  second  in  command,  to  his  wife  after  the  battle.  He  wrote 
thus:  "Je  me  porte  bien,  ma  chfere  feme.  Ne  t'inquieste  pas  de  moy. 
Nos  Irlandois  n'ont  rien  fait  qui  vaille.     lis  ont  tous  lach^  le  pife." 

Desgrigny,  writing  on  the  Jgth  of  July,  assigns  several  reasons  for  the 
defeat.  "La  premi&re  et  la  plus  forte  est  la  fuite  des  Irlandois  qui  sont  en 
vdrit^  des  gens  sur  lesquels  il  no  faut  pas  compter  da  tout."  In  the  same 
letter  he  says:  "II  n'est  pas  naturel  de  croire  qu'une  armde  de  vingt  cinq 
mille  hommes  qui  paroissoit  de  la  meillenre  volont^  du  monde,  et  qui  h.  la 
veue  des  ennemis  faisoit  des  cris  de  Joye,  dilt  etre  entiferement  ddfaite  sans 
avoir  tird  \'4p6e  et  un  seul  coup  de  mousquet.  II  y  a  eu  tel  regiment  tout 
entior  qui  a  laiss^  ses  habits,  ses  armes,  et  ses  drapeaux  sur  le  champ  de 
bataille,  et  a  gagn^  les  montagnes  avec  ses  officiers." 

I  looked  in  vain  for  the  despatch  in  which  Lauzun  must  have  given 
Louvois  a  detailed  account  of  the  battle. 


mortal  wound  in  the  thigh.     Four  of  his  men  carried  him  back.    r.iiAi'. 
across  the  ford  to  his  tent.     As  he  passed,  he  continued  to  urge  — j^„  - 
forward  the  rear  ranks  which  were  still  up  to  the  breast  in  the 
water.     "On;  on;  my  lads:  to  glory;  to  glory."     Schomberg, 
who  had  remained  on  the  northern  bank,  and  who  had  thence 
watched  the  progress  of  his  troops  with  the  eye  of  a  general, 
now  thought  that  the  emergency  required  from  him  the  personal 
exertion  of  a  soldier.     Those  who  stood  about  him  besought 
him  in  vain  to  put  on  his  cuirass,     ^^'illlout  defensive  armourhe 
rode  through  the  river,  and  rallied  the  refugees  whom  the  fall 
of  Caillemot  had  dismayed.     "  Come  on,"  he  cried  in  French, 
pointing  to  the  Popish  squadrons;    "come  on,    gentlemen: 
there  are  your  persecutors."     Those  were  his  last  words.    As  he 
Bpoke,  a  band  of  Irish  horsemen  rushed  upon  him  and  encircled 
him  for  a  moment.     "WTien  they  retired,  he  was  on  the  ground. 
His  friends  raised  him;  but  he  was  already  a  corpse.     Two 
sabre  wounds  were  on  his  head;  and  a  bullet  from  a  carbine  was 
lodged  in  his  neck.    Almost  at  the  same  moment  Walker,  while 
exhorting  the  colonists  of  Ulster  to  play  the  men,  was  shot 
dead.     During  near  half  an  hour  the  battle  continued  to  rage 
along  the  southern  shore  of  the  river.     All  was  smoke,  dust 
and  din.     Old  soldiers  were  heard  to  say  that  they  had  seldom 
seen  sharper  work  in  the  Low  Countries.     But,  just  at  this 
conjuncture,  William  came  up  with  the  left  wing.     He  had 
found  much  difficulty  in  crossing.     The  tide  was  running  fast. 
His  charger  had  been  forced  to  swim,  and  had  been  almost  lost 
in  the  mud.     As  soon  as  the  King  was  on  firm  ground  he  took 
his  sword  in  his  left  hand,  —  for  his  right  arm  was  stiff  with  his 
wound  and  his  bandage,  —  and  led  his  men  to  the  place  where 
the  fight  was  the  hottest.     His  arrival  decided  the  fate  of  the 
day.     Yet  the  Irish  horse  retired  fighting  obstinately.    It  was 
long  remembered  among  the  Protestants  of  Ulster  that,  in  the 
midst  of  the  tumult,  William  rode  to  the  head  of  the  Emiis- 



CHAP,  killeners.     "What  will  you  do  forme?"  he  cried.    He  was  not 
1690.    immediately  recognised ;  and  one  trooper,  taking  him  for  an 
enemy,  was  about  to  fire.  William  gently  put  aside  the  carbine. 
"What,"  said  he,  "do  you  not  know  your  friends?"    "It  is 
His  Majesty;"  said  the  Colonel.     The  ranks  of  sturdy  Protes- 
tant yeomen  set  up  a  shout  of  joy.    "  Gentlemen,"  said  William, 
"you  shall  be  my  guards  to  day.     I  have  heard  much  of  you. 
Let  me  see  something  of  you."     One  of  the  most  remarkable 
peculiarities  of  this  man,  ordinarily  so  saturnine  and  reserved, 
was  that  danger  acted  on  him  like  wine,  opened  his  heart, 
loosened  his  tongue,  and  took  away  all  appearance  of  con- 
straint from  his  manner.     On  this  memorable  day  he  was  seen 
wherever  the  peril  was  greatest.     One  ball  struck  the  cap  of  his 
pistol:  another  carried  off  the  heel  of  his  jackboot:  but  his 
lieutenants  in  vain  implored  him  to  retire  to  some  station  from 
which  he   could  give  his  orders  without  exposing  a  life  so 
valuable  to  Europe.     His  troops,  animated  by  his  example, 
gained  ground  fast.     The  Irish  cavahy  made  their  last  stand  at 
a  house  called  Plottin  Castle ,  about  a  mile  and  a  half  south 
of  Oldbridge.     There  the  Enniskilleners  were  repelled  with  the 
loss  of  fifty  men,  and  were  hotly  pursued,  till  William  rallied 
them  and  turned  the  chase  back.     In  this  encounter  Richard 
Hamilton,  who  had  done  all  that  could  be  done  by  valour  to 
retrieve    a   reputation    forfeited    by   perfidy*,    was    severely 
wounded,  taken  prisoner,  and  instantly  brought,  through  the 
smoke  and  over  the  carnage,  before  the  prince  whom  he  had 
foully  wronged.     On  no  occasion  did  the  character  of  William 
show  itself  in  a  more  striking  manner.     "Is  this  business  over?" 
he  said;    "or  will  your  horse  make  more  fight?"    "On  my 
honour,  Sir,"  answered  Hamilton,  "I  believe  that  they  will." 
"Your  honour!"   muttered  William;    "your  honour!"    That 

•  Lauzun  wrote  to  Seignelay,  July  Jf.  1690,  "Richard  Amilton  a  ^t^ 
fait  prisonnier,  faiaant  fort  blen  son  devoir." 


half  suppressed  exclamation  was  the  only  revengje  which  he    thap. 
condescended  to  take  for  an  injury  for  which  many  sovereigns,  —7^^ 
far  more  affable  and   gracious  in  their  ordinary  deportment, 
would  have  exacted  a  terrible  retribution.     Then,  restraining 
himself,  he  ordered  his  own  surgeon  to  look  to  the  hurts  of  the 

And  now  the  battle  was  over.  Hamilton  was  mistaken  in 
thinking  that  his  horse  would  continue  to  fight.  AVhole  troops 
had  been  cut  to  pieces.  One  tine  regiment  had  only  thirty 
unwounded  men  left.  It  was  enough  that  these  gallant  soldiers 
had  disputed  the  field  till  they  were  left  without  support,  or 
hope,  or  guidance,  till  their  bravest  leader  was  a  captive,  and 
till  their  King  had  fled. 

Whether  James  had  owed  his  early  reputation  for  Valour  to  '•''Bht  or 

.  James. 

accident  and  flattery,  or  whether,  as  he  advanced  in  life,  his 
character  underwent  a  change,  may  be  doubted.  But  it  is  cer- 
tain that,  in  his  youth,  he  was  generally  believed  to  possess, 
not  merely  that  average  measure  of  fortitude  which  qualifies  a 
soldier  to  go  through  a  campaign  without  disgrace ,  but  that 
high  and  serene  intrepidity  which  is  the  virtue  of  great  com- 

•  My  chief  materials  for  the  history  of  this  battle  are  Story's  Impartial 
Account  and  Continuation;  the  History  of  tlie  War  in  Ireland  by  an  Officer 
of  the  Royal  Army;  the  despatches  in  the  French  War  Office;  The  Life  of 
James,  Grig.  Mem.;  Burnet,  ii.  60.  60.;  Narcissus  Luttrell's  Diary;  the 
London  Gazette  of  July  10.  1690;  the  Despatclies  of  Hop  and  Baden;  a 
narrative  probably  drawn  up  by  Portland,  which  William  sent  to  the  States 
General;  Portland's  private  letter  to  Melville;  Captain  Richardson's  Narra- 
tive and  map  of  the  battle;  the  Duniont  MS.,  and  the  Bellingham  MS. 
I  have  also  seen  an  account  of  the  battle  in  a  Diary  kept  in  bad  Latin  and 
in  an  almost  undecipherable  hand  by  one  of  the  beaten  army  who  seems  to 
have  been  a  licdj<e  schoolmaster  turned  Captain.  This  Diary  was  kindly 
lent  to  mo  by  Mr.  Walker,  to  whom  it  belongs.  Tlie  writer  relates  the 
misfortunes  of  his  country  in  a  style  of  which  a  short  specimen  may 
■uffice:  "1  July,  1090.  O  diem  ilium  infandum ,  cum  inimici  potiti  sunt 
pass  apud  Oldbrldge  et  nos  circumdederunt  et  fregerunt  prope  Plottin. 
Hinc  omnes  fuglmus  Dublin  versus.  Ego  mecam  tnli  Cap  Moore  et 
Georgium  Ogle,  et  venimas  hac  nocto  Dub." 



CHAP,  manders.*  It  is  equally  certain  that,  in  his  later  years,  here- 
-  peatedly,  at  conjunctures  such  as  have  often  inspired  timorous 
and  delicate  women  with  heroic  courage,  showed  a  pusillani- 
mous anxiety  about  his  personal  safety.  Of  the  most  powerful 
motives  which  can  induce  human  beings  to  encounter  peril  none 
was  wanting  to  him  on  the  day  of  the  Boyne.  The  eyes  of  his 
contemporaries  and  of  posterity,  of  friends  devoted  to  his  cause 
and  of  enemies  eager  to  witness  his  humiliation,  were  fixed 
upon  him.  He  had,  in  his  own  opinion,  sacred  rights  to  main- 
tain and  cruel  wrongs  to  revenge.  He  was  a  King  come  to  fight 
for  three  kingdoms.  He  was  a  father  come  to  fight  for  the 
birthright  of  his  child.  He  was  a  zealous  Roman  Catholic, 
come  to  fight  in  the  holiest  of  crusades.  If  all  this  was  not 
enough,  he  saw,  from  the  secure  position  which  he  occupied 
on  the  height  of  Donore,  a  sight  which,  it  might  have  been 
thought,  would  have  roused  the  most  torpid  of  mankind  to 
emulation.  He  saw  his  rival,  weak,  sickly,  wounded,  swim- 
ming the  river,  struggling  through  the  mud,  leading  the  charge, 
stopping  the  flight,  grasping  the  sword  with  the  left  hand, 
managing  the  bridle  with  a  bandaged  arm.  But  none  of  these 
things  moved  that  sluggish  and  ignoble  nature.  He  watched, 
from  a  safe  distance,  the  beginning  of  the  battle  on  which  his 
fate  and  the  fate  of  his  race  depended.  When  it  became  clear 
that  the  day  was  going  against  Ireland,  he  was  seized  with  an 
apprehension  that  his  flight  might  be  intercepted,  and  galloped 
towards  Dublin.  He  was  escorted  by  a  bodyguard  under  the 
command  of  Sarsfield,  who  had,  on  that  day,  had  no  oppor- 
tunity of  displaying  the  skill  and  courage  which  his  enemies 

•  See  Pepys's  Diary,  June  4.  1664.  "He  tells  me  above  all  of  the 
Dnke  of  York,  that  he  is  more  himself,  and  more  of  judgment  is  at  hand  in 
him,  in  the  middle  of  a  desperate  service  than  at  other  times."  Clarendon 
repeatedly  says  the  same.  Swift  wrote  on  the  margin  of  his  copy  of 
Clarendon,  in  one  place,  "How  old  was  he  (James)  when  he  tnrned  Papist 
and  a  coward?"  —  in  another,  "He  proved  a  cowardly  Popish  king."  r- 


allowed  that  he  posseHsed.*  The  French  auxiliaries,  "who  had  ciiap. 
been  employed  the  whole  morning  in  keeping  William's  right  — 7;^,p 
wing  in  check,  covered  the  flight  of  the  beaten  army.  ITiey 
were  indeed  in  some  danger  of  being  broken  and  swept  away  by 
the  torrent  of  runaways,  all  pressing  to  get  first  to  the  pass  of 
Duleek,  and  were  forced  to  fire  repeatedly  on  these  despicable 
allies.**  The  retreat  was,  however,  effected  with  less  loss  than 
might  have  been  e.xpected.  For  even  the  admirers  of  "William 
owned  that  he  did  not  show  in  the  pursuit  the  energy  which 
even  his  detractors  acknowledged  that  he  had  shown  in  the 
battle.  Perhaps  his  physical  infirmities,  his  hurt,  and  the 
fatigue  which  he  had  undergone,  had  made  him  incapable  of 
bodily  or  mental  exertion.  Of  the  last  forty  hours  he  had 
passed  thirty  five  on  horseback.  Schomberg,  who  might  have 
supplied  his  place,  was  no  more.  It  was  said  in  the  camp  that 
the  King  could  not  do  ever}'  thing,  and  that  what  was  not  done 
by  him  was  not  done  at  all. 

The  slaughter  had  been  less  than  on  any  battle  field  of  equal  '-o'-''  "f 
importance   and  celebrity.      Of  the  Irish  only  about  fifteen  armies, 
hundred  had  fallen ;  but  they  were  almost  all  cavalr}-,  the  flower 
of  the  army,  brave  and  well  disciplined  men,  whose  place  could 
not  easily  be  supplied.     AVilliam  gave  strict  orders  that  there 
should  be  no  unnecessary  bloodshed,  and  enforced  those  orders 

•  Pfere  Origan*  mentions  that  Sarsfield  accompanied  James.  The 
battle  of  the  Boyne  had  scarcely  been  fouplit  when  it  was  made  the  subject 
of  a  drama,  the  Royal  Flight,  or  the  Conquest  of  Ireland,  a  Farce,  1690. 
Nothing  more  execrable  was  ever  written.  But  it  deserves  to  be  remarked 
that,  in  this  wretched  piece,  though  the  Irisli  generally  are  represented  as 
poltroons,  an  exception  is  made  in  favour  of  Sarsfield.  "This  fellow," 
says  James,  aside,  "will  make  me  valiant,  I  think,  in  spite  of  my  teeth." 
"Curse  of  my  stars!"  says  Sarsfield,  after  the  battle.  "That  I  must 
be  detached!  I  would  have  wrested  victory  out  of  heretic  Fortune's 

••  Both  La  Hognette  and  Zurlaubcn  informed  their  government  that  it 
had  been  necessary  to  fire  on  the  Irish  fugitives,  who  would  otherwise  bATe 
thrown  the  French  ranks  into  oonfusion. 



CHAP,  by  an  act  of  laudable  severity.     One  of  his  soldiers,  after  the 


"  1690  ^S^^  ^^^  over,  butchered  three  defenceless  Irishmen  who 
asked  for  quarter.  The  King  ordered  the  murderer  to  be  hanged 
on  the  spot.* 

The  loss  of  the  conquerors  did  not  exceed  five  hundred  men ; 
but  among  them  was  the  first  captain  in  Europe.  To  his  corpse 
every  honour  was  paid.  The  only  cemetery  in  which  so  illus- 
trious a  warrior,  slain  in  arms  for  the  liberties  and  religion  of 
England,  could  properly  be  laid  was  that  venerable  Abbey, 
hallowed  by  the  dust  of  many  generations  of  princes ,  heroes 
and  poets.  It  was  announced  that  the  brave  veteran  should 
have  a  public  funeral  at  Westminster.  In  the  mean  time  his 
corpse  was  embalmed  with  such  skill  as  could  be  found  in  the 
camp,  and  was  deposited  in  a  leaden  coffin.** 

Walker  was  treated  less  respectfully.  William  thought  him 
a  busybody  who  had  been  properly  punished  for  running  into 
danger  without  any  call  of  duty,  and  expressed  that  feeling, 
with  characteristic  bluntness,  on  the  field  of  battle.  "Sir," 
said  an  attendant,  "the  Bishop  of  Derry  has  been  killed  by  a 
shot  at  theford."    "What  took  him  there?"  growled  the  King. 

The  victorious  army  advanced  that  day  to  Duleek,  and 
passed  the  warm  summer  night  there  under  the  open  sky.  The 
tents  and  the  baggage  waggons  were  stQl  on  the  north  of  the 
river.    William's  coach  had  been  brought  over;  and  he  slept  in 

Fall  of     it  surrounded  by  his  soldiers.     On  the  following  day,  Drogheda 
"■"s  ^  *  surrendered  without  a  blow,  and  the  garrison,  thirteen  hundred 
strong,  marched  out  unarmed.*** 

state  of  Meanwhile  Dublin  had  been  in  violent  commotion.  On  the 
thirtieth  of  June  it  was  known  that  the  armies  were  face  to  face 
with  the  Boyne  between  them,  and  that  a  battle  was  almost 

»  Baden  to  Van  Citters ,  July  i»j.  1690. 
••  New  and  Perfect  Journal,  1690;  Narcissus  Luttrell's  Diary. 
*••  Story;  London  Gazette,  July  10.  1690, 


inevitable.  ITie  news  that  AVilliam  had  been  wounded  came  chap. 
that  evening.  The  first  report  was  that  the  wound  was  mortal.  -  ^^^ 
It  was  believed,  and  confidently  repeated,  that  the  usurper 
was  no  more;  and  couriers  started  bearing  the  glad  tidings  of 
his  death  to  the  French  ships  which  lay  in  the  ports  of  Munster. 
From  daybreak  on  the  first  of  July  the  streets  of  Dublin  were 
tilled  with  persons  eagerly  asking  and  telling  news.  A  thousand 
wild  rumours  wandered  to  and  fro  among  the  crowd.  A  fleet 
of  men  of  war  under  the  white  flag  had  been  seen  from  the  hill 
of  Howth.  An  army  commanded  by  a  Marshal  of  France  had 
landed  in  Kent.  There  had  been  hard  fighting  at  the  BojTie: 
but  the  Irish  had  won  the  day:  the  English  rightwing  had  been 
routed:  the  Prince  of  Orange  was  a  prisoner.  "While  the 
Roman  Catholics  heard  and  repeated  these  stories  in  all  the 
places  of  public  resort,  the  few  Protestants  who  were  still  out 
of  prison,  afraid  of  being  torn  to  pieces,  shut  themselves  up  in 
their  inner  chambers.  But,  towards  five  in  the  afternoon,  a 
few  runaways  on  tired  horses  came  straggling  in  with  evil 
tidings.  By  six  it  was  known  that  all  was  lost.  Soon  after 
sunset,  James,  escorted  by  two  hundred  cavalry,  rode  into 
the  Castle.  At  the  threshold  he  was  met  by  the  wife  of  Tyr- 
connel,  once  the  gay  and  beautiful  Fanny  Jennings,  the  love- 
liest coqu